


Performance Anxiety

by twistedrunes



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alfie Solomons talking in riddles, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hand Jobs, It's just the way he is, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15375891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: Alfie comforts his anxious bookkeeper.





	1. And so peaceful until

**Author's Note:**

> This is the original drabble based on the following prompt: Could you write some head-canons of Alfie being supportive while the reader has anxiety issues

“What are you still doing here?” Alfie asks poking his head around your office door. “It’s fucking two am.” He says coming and perching himself on the corner of your desk, pushing your stapler and hole punch aside. 

You look up blinking surprised both at the time and that Alfie was even here. You fight the urge to return the stationery items to their correct positions, tapping your finger on the desk in three groups of three. “Oh, I didn’t realise. I just wanted to make sure all the figures were perfect for your meeting tomorrow.” You explain hurriedly feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your neck. 

Alfie’s eyebrows arch “They were fine this afternoon when I looked at them.” He says calmly.

“Well, I found a spelling mistake and so I checked it all again and then wanted to redo it so I’m sure it’s correct.” You say quickly, praying he would just leave it. You know it’s dumb to redo the same thing over and over. But you just need it to be perfect. 

“Right,” Alfie says slowly “So ya remember the talk we had about how I don’t flog people for spelling mistakes. Yeah?” 

You nod. You can feel the hot tears of embarrassment welling in your eyes.  Your hand moves to the stapler putting it back in place unable to stand it any longer. Alfie notices. Of course, he does, nothing slips the man’s attention. 

“So is there something in particular wrong which has set this off, or are you just stuck in your own head again?” He asks kindly, removing himself from your desk, stopping to put the stationery back in place before coming to stand next to you, leaning over to look at the page in front of you. 

Your chin begins to wobble and a hot tear reaches your cheek. You’re grateful that he can’t see your face. “In my head.” You admit with shame and embarrassment. “I know it’s stupid but sometimes I just can’t stop it.” 

Alfie nods, his fingers working in his beard as he places his spectacles on the end of his nose. He remains next to you, looking over the pages. Saying nothing.

Overwhelmed, by fatigue, embarrassment and his presence, hot tears run down your cheeks. Alfie’s eyes flick to yours and it’s all too much. “I feel like I can’t breathe.” You sob. 

“Do ya need a hug sweetie?” Alfie says stepping away and holding his arms open to you. You nod and stand, allowing him to embrace you. “Now we’re going to just breathe okay.” Alfie instructs “In and out.” He says slowly, his hand guiding your head onto his chest where you listen to the gentle lub, dub of his heart. “In and out,” Alfie repeats rhythmically. You stand connected until your breathing calms and your heart stops racing. 

“Hmm,” Alfie ponders, as you pull away and retake your seat, wiping your face furiously with your hands. “So now I’m gonna finish looking over these papers and when they are right I’m going to put them in my safe, locked away until the meeting tomorrow.” You nod. Alfie nods in return before continuing. “Now I’m the boss of this place and so my word is final, yeah. So no second-guessing me, right?”

“Yes, Mr Solomons.” You reply, a wave of relief flowing through your body. 


	2. Meet The Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie's book-keeper is smart, but not always able to see what's right in front of her. Alfie's many things and apparently a gentleman is one of them. Fortunately for both of them, Ollie has run out of patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on the following request “thinking about Alfie’s headcanon…you are much younger than he is, and he’s working on good relations with your parents, and meanwhile, some fluff to comfort you, cause you are obviously anxious about this situation”

“Alfie, I’m not nervous about them meeting you, I’m nervous about you meeting them.” You groan, looking across the car at him. The two of you were on your way to meet your parents. Alfie had pretty much wanted to meet them from day one but you had been, hesitant.

Alfie laughs. “Why? Your previous suitors got their heads on sticks in the backyard? Hanging from a tree like wind chimes? Chained in the cellar? Sold to slavers?”

You know he’s trying to stop you from stressing out and losing it. But your parents were just so embarrassing.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your relationship with Alfie had been the ultimate slow burn. He was a good few years older than you and obviously much more experienced in, well, just about everything really. Not that you were a vestal virgin, but you were fairly shy and so not terribly experienced. But Alfie had been very proper in his pursuit of you.

At first, you thought it must have all been in your head. A silly crush on your behalf. 

Alfie had been hugging you since the first month of you working for him. He’d walked in on your having a major meltdown because you had put a decimal point in the wrong spot, in pencil, on some rough workings. He’d come in and immediately assessed the situation and offered you a hug. To this day you had no idea why you’d accepted. But you did. You knew full well he was just being kind. That his hug was fatherly or brotherly, nothing else. His hands never straying from the middle of your back, with nothing touching below the belly button. So you were obviously creating a fantasy in your mind. Reading more into it than was there. Making up scenarios in your mind as usual, even if this one was actually a nice one.  

With the benefit of hindsight, Alfie couldn’t be more obvious if he’d hired a big band to follow you down the street singing “Alfie likes you, Jenny, yes you. He really, really likes you.”

It had started with him sharing his lunch with you. Just because you were in the office apparently. “Gotta eat.” Apparently. Ollie had unwittingly revealed this was a blatant lie when Alfie had sent him to fetch the two of you some sandwiches and he had moaned about not understanding what “the recent obsession with lunch” was. But you had decided that Alfie was just being polite.

Around about the same time, he would pop into your office, for no apparent reason. That had stressed you out no end. You were convinced he was checking up on you. He’d be talking about some random piece of information he found interesting and you’d be having an internal meltdown. He stopped popping in with no purpose the day you burst into tears because “you had no strong feelings on swallows or their migration habits and you were trying to get your work done and if he thought you couldn’t do it he should just fire you because he was wasting so much time in your office checking up on you and surely he had better things to do.”

Then there was the number of times Alfie had business “just down the road” from your home. Your home, in the middle of street after street of terraced houses only interrupted by an occasional corner shop. Business, which just happened to require him to leave the office at the same time as you were leaving to go home. So it was only polite that he would give you a ride home. “Going that way ain’t I” he would insist. Four times in one week. Just polite.

Your birthday had been next. It’s totally normal for a boss to give his employee sapphire earrings for her birthday and take her out for lunch. Right? To the most expensive restaurant in town. Just being nice.

That had broken Ollie. “You know he likes you right?” He’d asked as you sat checking invoices off together. Alfie being safely occupied in another part of the factory at that moment. Ollie hardly took a breath before cutting off the words about to leave your mouth. “No. Not just as your boss. He likes, likes you.” You’d opened your mouth to argue “And you like him.” He’d said. Your face reddening immediately meant you couldn’t deny it. “So, please, for the rest of us, just notice him back. Okay?”

So you did. You’d noticed the way he would look at you rather than the paperwork when you talked to him. So you held his eye more often. You’d noticed how his hand would rest on the back of your chair, his thumb ‘accidentally’ grazing your back. So you’d sit a little closer or allow your hand to touch his when you handed him something. You’d noticed the way he would bring you something when he’d been away. Nothing extravagant just a shell or pamphlet or a seed pod. But always with a story, always with a reason it had made him think of you. You’d noticed how you kept all those things. Only now you kept them in your office, rather than in your bedroom. You noticed how even if he’d just gone for a few hours he’d bring back a piece of fruit, or boiled sweets or a pastry when he came back. So you’d started insisting that he share it with you. Stopping what you were doing while you did. You noticed how he always smiled when he spoke to you. So you made sure you always smiled back.

And then it happened. You’d noticed how when he found you in the office at two am redoing paperwork for the umpteenth time that he hadn’t belittled you or called you stupid. You’d noticed how when you accepted his hug that you had felt the tightening in your chest lifting. You’d noticed how he’d found a way to solve the problem and put you at ease. You’d noticed how on the way to the car for him to take you home you’d wanted to put your hand in his. So you did. 

You’d noticed how after the initial shock of finding your hand in his he had grinned and held your hand tighter. You’d noticed how when you’d stopped outside your house, Alfie’s arm hand risen to the back of the seat. You’d noticed how his fingers stopped just short of your shoulder. So you’d moved over, slipping yourself under his arm, your hand resting lightly on his chest. You’d noticed the happy sigh that escaped him. So you’d kissed his cheek, to say thank you and goodnight. You’d noticed how his heart had beat harder and faster when you did.

The next morning you nearly threw up when you heard his footsteps on the stairs to the office. You thought you were going to faint when he opened your door and closed it behind him. Your heart had melted when he’d pulled the bunch of peonies from behind his back and put them on your desk. You had smiled when you saw the flash of worry on Alfie’s face, when you hesitated before speaking, thanking him for the flowers.

Regaining his usual confidence, he had sat on the edge of your desk, careful not to move anything from its place and invited you to dinner with him. You’d spent the day blushing whenever he was within ten feet of you.

When you entered the restaurant and people had literally stopped mid-conversation to look at you both, he had simply wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him and assuring you with a whisper that they were all looking at him and not you.

During dessert he had lowered his voice and said “Now, I know you tend to think about things a bit too much and that sometimes your brain takes things and makes ‘em seem scary, so I’m going to make this clear. I want to date you. I really, really like you. I haven’t said anything before because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same and I didn’t want you disappearing like some startled bunny. So to make sure there is no confusion, do you want to date me?”

You’d swallowed the mouthful of chocolate mousse in your mouth, licking the sticky residue off your lips. “Yes. I want to date you.” You agreed. Once the words were out of your mouth, you felt the panic rise in you. You must have misheard him. He wouldn’t like someone like you. This was all just a joke.

Alfie’s hand caught yours and moved it to the middle of the table. He waited calmly holding your hand between you until you met his gaze. “Good.” He said when you did. Before lifting your hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. You nearly slid off the chair at the feel of his warm full lips, surrounded by the slightly rough hair tickling your skin.

That night you’d had your first kiss. Alfie had opened the door of the car for you in the restaurant carpark. Holding it open. You had stopped, your hand drawn to his chest. His hand had found your hip and the other your cheek. He’d moved closer, dropping his face to look in your eyes. “Now, I’m gonna kiss you, if that’s okay? Don’t want you worrying the neighbours will talk, so I won’t do it on your doorstep. Yeah?” His consideration made you blush as you consented. But everything was forgotten when he pressed his lips to yours. You had literally felt your heart expand, losing yourself in the feeling. You could have kissed for a minute or a year and you’d have had no idea. You were sure that if his hand hadn’t moved up your back holding you to him, you simply would have fallen to the floor. As promised at your door Alfie simply squeezed your hand and left.

About a week in, Alfie had gone to kiss you in his office. You had freaked, terrified someone was going to see you. Alfie had laughed trying to reassure you that even if anyone did see anything, no one would be brave enough to say anything. But had agreed that he would keep his hands to himself at work, even though that would be “very, very difficult yeah?”

The day the worker from the factory had accidentally bumped into you in the hall, causing you to drop your papers had been mortifying. Alfie had called a factory meeting advising that “more fucking respect needed to be paid to the female staff in the company and if anyone knocked anyone over again, then the one doing the knocking would find themselves fucking knocked out.” You had wanted to die as you stood behind Alfie, next to Ollie on the gantry overlooking the assembled workers. No one in any doubt about which female employee was now completely off-limits. Alfie had then spent the rest of the day on the factory floor, doing spot checks. You had hidden in your office. At about six Ollie had passed your office and you’d asked him if everyone else had gone home yet. You wanted to leave with as few people as possible noticing you. Alfie had caught you sneaking out. One look at you and he knew. “I embarrassed you, didn’t I?” You’d joked that it was nothing a few years in deepest, darkest, Africa wouldn’t solve. He’d nodded and looked to make sure no one was watching before he pulled you into him, whispering an apology in your ear along with a promise not to make you stand in front of the entire factory ever again.

After a month Alfie had made it clear he wanted to meet your parents. Saying it was only proper. You had told him that they didn’t live in London. After two months he suggested a short holiday to see your parents. You had explained that your parents were seasonal workers and so they had to take work where they could get it and it was hard to know where they would be from one week to the next. That had satisfied him until he’d come home with you and picked your post off the floor. Seeing the postcard from your parents telling you they would be in London in two weeks.

Despite your every attempt to convince him that he really didn’t need to meet your parents. He had insisted. It wasn’t until he asked if you were ashamed of him that you agreed. Promising him that you weren’t. That it was just that your parents weren’t exactly thrilled with the fact that you had chosen to live in London. That things were a bit tense between you. But you sensed it was important to him and, as he was so understanding of you the rest of the time you had agreed. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alfie pulls the car up outside the restaurant. He sniffs the air and looks around. “Ah,” He says noticing the peaks of the big top behind the row of shops. “Circus is in town, we should go after lunch eh? Been ages since I’ve been to the circus.”

“Mm,” You respond vaguely, focused on getting to the restaurant. Alfie falls in beside you before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into the doorway of an abandoned shop. He raises your hands around his neck and puts his hands on your hips. Pushing you back against the wall and holding you in place “It’s all going to be fine.” He assures you looking at you intently. “They can’t do anything that will stop me loving you right?” Your eyes widen and your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Alfie’s face scrunches up as he pushes his nose to yours “That’s right ya heard me. I love ya and nothing that happens in the next hour or so will change that.”  You open your mouth again but Alfie presses a finger to your lips. “Ya don’t need to say anything now right? When ya ready.”

Nodding you stand on your toes and slide your fingers into the hair on the back of his head, pulling his mouth to yours. Kissing him deeply. As always you lose all concept of time and space and are filled with calm. It’s as if Alfie is able to transfer his calm directly into you with the simple act of kissing. Or fucking, you’d discovered that worked too. You pull away and take a deep breath straightening your back and taking Alfie’s hand. “Let’s get this over with then.” You say leading the way to the restaurant.

You die a little inside as soon as you reach the dining room, hearing your mother’s shrill cry across the room “Darling!” You didn’t have to search for her either, her lurid purple dress and hat clashing painfully with your father’s scarlet suit and top hat. They were like a lighthouse compared to the demure blues, greys and greens of the patrons seated around them. You nearly laugh when you feel Alfie falter momentarily. You were sure nothing had prepared him for this.

Once everyone was settled and you had introduced everyone your father asks Alfie what he does for a living. Alfie predictably replies that he owns a bakery. “And yourselves?” He asks your parents.

Your head drops slightly as you anticipate your father’s response. You’re not wrong to assume the worst. Your father leaps to his feet, top hat lifted from his head “Wilson and Wilson’s Family Circus!” He cries gesturing out the window to the big top, now clearly visible.

Alfie chokes on his water. Recovering he says “The circus, really?” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alfie opens the door of the car for you holding it open. Lunch had been less painful than you expected. Your parents had been more low-key than normal and Alfie had enjoyed talking to them about Circus life. You catch each other’s eye and begin to laugh. Alfie grabs your waist and pushes you gently back against the rear door of the car. “So you ran away from the circus?” He asks incredulously.

“Well I’m not exactly a natural performer am I?” You respond, kissing him.

Alfie pulls out of your kiss looking down at you with his eyebrows raised “So I gotta ask, any tricks you picked up during your childhood in the circus? Hmm? Sword swallowing? Trapeze?” He buries his face in your neck. Kissing the sensitive skin under your ear. “Contortionist perhaps?” He asks hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take requests and have other work available on my Tumblr: https://twistedrunes.tumblr.com/


	3. Strong Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Alfie and his book-keeper have visitors. Things manage to go remarkably pear-shaped in a short space of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is based on two reader requests:
> 
> 1\. Your old male friend comes to London on his way to the states to visit you. You spend a lot of time with him recently and Alfie is extremely jealous(he doesn’t know he’s gay) and idea of losing you crosses his mind more often
> 
> 2\. how Alfie would be around his love when she accidentally walked in on him in a business meeting. Like he’d be a nervous wreck for others to see his weakness…

It had been a couple of weeks since Alfie had met your parents and things were going well. Or so you had thought. But the last few days Alfie had been, different, well absent really. It had started when you’d gone to see if he was ready for lunch. You’d gone to walk in as usual, but Alfie was in a meeting. You had hesitated, hand poised above the door handle. As Alfie’s eyes met yours through the window in the door, they had widened briefly. He immediately looked away as he smashed his fist on the table. Ollie appeared in the doorway blocking your view of Alfie and the men. But you could hear Alfie launching into some tirade, yelling and spitting expletives. You flinched back as Ollie opened the door, the volume of Alfie’s voice seemingly increasing exponentially. 

Ollie had taken you down the hall. Explaining that Alfie would be busy for the rest of the day so you should go out for lunch. He shoved some money in your hand, “go to that new place up the road” he had suggested. Both Alfie and Ollie were gone when you got back.

You were trying hard not to freak out. He was just busy you told yourself firmly when you didn’t see him for the rest of the day. Caught up with work you told yourself that day and the next when he had someone else drive you home. But you had cried yourself to sleep on the second night when he didn’t even call to say goodnight. It was the first day since your two am meltdown that you hadn’t spoken. When he was in the office, which was rare and fleeting, he barely spoke to you, and there were no subtle or not so subtle attempts to kiss, cuddle or touch you in any way.

Was it something you said? Something you did. You spent hours wracking your brain trying to work out what had gone wrong. What you had done for him to cool, freeze almost, so quickly. Maybe he was scared off by your parents, by finding out who you were. You knew the reputation circus folk had as drifters and grifters. But you’d never picked Alfie as the kind of man who would make assumptions about people’s character. Being as he was such a good judge of character himself. You analysed each interaction in detail, playing and replaying events in your mind, seemingly able to think about nothing else. All you needed was for Alfie to tell you everything was okay, that he was just busy. God, you just needed the man to acknowledge you still existed. 

What you needed was one of his hugs that shielded you from the world and your brain. A hug that would make everything alright.  

It’s exhausting when your brain is always in overdrive. That, combined with a slowly breaking heart you were barely managing to make it through the day; which is why when you opened your door, on the third night and found your friend Gus there you burst into tears. He was your closest friend, you’d grown up in the circus together. Like his father and grandfather before him Gus, or Gustus as his mother called him, was a strong man. He was as advertised, a good head taller than Alfie, with biceps bigger than your thighs. He was huge. Seeing the state of you, Gus quickly embraced you “I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I know surprises stress you out.” He apologised, lifting you off the floor in a bear hug and kissing your forehead.

Gus had been only four years old when you were born. Both of your mothers loved to tell the story of how Gus, peaking into the bassinette and seeing your tiny face, had declared that he would protect you and love you forever. Both mothers had been pushing for your relationship to become something more pretty much ever since. Something both of you weren’t even slightly interested in and actively discouraged.

To outsiders, you were a bit of an odd couple. For all your shyness, anxieties and neurosis, Gus was bold, confident and flamboyant. In truth, Alfie reminded you more than a little of Gus. Both able to command a room, to hold people’s attention. And both born performers with unflappable self-confidence. Both larger than life. Perhaps that’s why you had allowed Alfie to hug you that first time, it was like hugging your best friend.

“He said he loved me, but now he won’t even talk to me.” You sobbed into Gus’ chest. Gus sighed, commenting that men were pigs. Then he carried you back into the house. Dumping his bag next to the door, he continued through to the lounge and poured two large glasses of rum, Alfie’s white rum. Gus sat you down on the couch and sternly demanded to know “what the hell was going on?”

\--------------------------------------------------

Ollie winced as Alfie buried his fist into the stomach of the man who had aggrieved him, relieved his boss had decided not to use his face instead. The man slumped back against the sacks of flour. Alfie ranting about respect and work ethic, or something, he was less coherent than usual. Ollie had no idea what the man had done to be the object of his boss’s anger; he doubted Alfie really knew either. The boss was in a bad mood, a terrible mood. This meant a bad day for Ollie, probably a horrible day for Ollie.

Things had been so good Ollie thought wistfully. Alfie had been positively joyous the last few weeks as his relationship with Jenny blossomed. Or Genie as Ollie thought of her. Having granted Ollie’s one wish for a much happier employer and therefore a more comfortable life all around. Of course, Ollie had to intercede because neither of them could see what was right in front of them, with Alfie nearly unbearable due to his self-repressed desire. But things had been good since then, well, until the current business started.

Over the years Ollie had become very good at reading his employer. Much more in tune with the little signs and signals that let him predict Alfie’s moods. The psoriasis was the key. As Alfie became more stressed, angry or just generally irritated so did his skin, since Alfie and Jenny had started dating the man had barely scratched himself. The last few days he’d drawn blood on more than one occasion. Needs mittens Ollie had thought absently, remembering the ones his wife had made their baby. The thought of putting mittens on the boss had made him smile briefly. The firm clip he got over the ear quickly wiped it from his face.

“Are ya fucking listening Ollie?” Alfie demanded, glaring at him.

“Yes, Mr. Solomons. I’ll set everything up.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

After you poured your heart out to Gus about Alfie, you finally got around to asking him why he was in London. You began to cry again when he told you he was moving to America to join a troop there. When he told you he would only be staying for three days, you made a decision. You were going to take the next three days off. It wasn’t as if Alfie would miss you and the accounts were up-to-date. Checking the time and finding it was only seven-thirty in the evening you’d called the office, Ollie telling you Alfie wasn’t available. You’d asked him to ask Alfie if you could have the next three days off as an old friend has come into town unexpectedly. Ollie had told you he’d get Alfie to call you back. When the phone rang about an hour later, you nearly ripped the cord from the wall in your haste to answer it. Your shoulders slumped when you realised it was Ollie’s voice “Yeah, Mr. Solomons’ says to take the rest of the week.” He told you.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Fuck! Ollie thinks to himself looking at his employer in the rear vision mirror. Alfie had ‘the look’. The look was something Ollie rarely saw but knew it was a guarantee of bad things to come. In addition to reading Alfie’s moods, Ollie had also become quite good at reading Alfie’s mind or rather his face, in particular, his eyebrows. He could interpret each furrow, quirk and twitch. Ollie learned the “I’m fucking going to shoot you in the face,” eyebrow raise early on. Importantly he knew that left eyebrow raised meant ‘I’m only threatening you.’ While the right indicated, some poor bastard was about to meet his maker.  

They were on their way to meet the Mafia representative from New York. Again. Apparently, he was looking for rum, but thus far they had only succeeded in pissing Alfie off. What was meant to be a one and done meeting had now extended over three days, with the increasingly insulting negotiations dragging on. The look was a good sign. Alfie had been off his game, this had gone on far too long, with Alfie just sitting and listening for days. His only outburst on the first day in his office, when Jenny had nearly walked in on the meeting. Ollie had never known Alfie to be reserved. Calculating yes, avoidant yes, manipulative even. But reserved no. There was something more going on Ollie knew it. He just didn’t know what it was.

 “They’re looking for fucking leverage Ollie, I know it,” Alfie exclaimed suddenly, his fingers crawling under his hat to scratch at an irritation there.

“Well, there’s nothing to find, boss.” Ollie tried to assure him. “We’re tight as a barrel.”

“Humph.” Was Alfie’s only reply with a furrowed brow and pouted lip. A look Ollie had never seen before.

Fuck! Ollie thinks again; this was going to be a hell of an evening. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be actually in hell by the end of it.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Gus had worked hard to distract you and cheer you up. The pair of you picking up your friendship where you had left off the last time you had seen each other as if no time had passed at all. You’d shopped until you dropped, dined and drank, been to the theatre and the cabaret and had a wonderful time. While your worries still niggled in the back of your mind, you were happier than you had been all week. 

The pair of you were positively strutting down the street towards the club Gus wanted to go to; it was very exclusive, so you were dressed to the nines. Gus knew the manager and your name was on the door, but you couldn’t help but feel a little anxious as the queue glared at you as you sailed past them and straight through the door. But Gus tucked you into his side and propelled you forward. Cheekily waving at the crowd on his way past, an action that had caused you to groan outwardly.

The manager came right out when he saw Gus, kissing both of you on both cheeks and showing you to “the best table in the house”, right next to the dancefloor. A little booth on a raised platform. Of course. You feel the discomfort in your stomach begin as your heart speeds up. You sit in the booth, head down wondering if anyone would notice if you just slid under the table. Gus and the manager were happily chatting. You only overheard snippets. “Yes, off to New York” and “The caviar is divine, darling. I’ll send some out.” But you nearly choke when you hear Gus say “Oh lovey, of course, we’ll dance. Put on a bit of a show for you hey?” You recognised his flirting voice.

“What?” you demand.

“We’ll have a dance.” Gus says giving you a broad smile “Put on a bit of a show for all these fancy people, hey. Show ‘em what us circus folk can do.” He bumps you with his shoulder.

Your mouth hangs open. “No,” you begin.

“Nonsense.” Gus cuts you off. “You know you love it.”

You sigh. He was right, you and Gus had been dancing together since you took your first steps. It was part of the act, the strong boy who danced. He did, beautifully, and you were great together. Part of your act was the fantastic lifts the two of you did, Gus’ strength combined with your total trust in him meant you could do things no-one else would even consider. When you were dancing all the anxiety went away. It was just you, Gus and the music. You could dance forever.

“Fine.” You say.

“Grand,” Gus says, leaping up from his seat and going to talk to the band.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Alfie was getting irritated, his fingers worked through his beard, tugging at it. The Mafia man just kept droning on. Alfie was distracted, and he knew it. Visions of Jenny appearing in his head at random. Constantly torn between wanting to be with her, kiss her, hug her, even just fucking look at her and needing to keep her as far away as possible from these Italian cunts. He’d had to send men out to follow her around to make sure she was safe. They were reporting on the hour. What they had told him was not good. Fucking, not good at all. Apparently, Jenny’s friend was a man, staying in her house. According to his men, Jenny seemed to be having ‘a very good time.’ Not good at all.  

Grunting Alfie shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the problem in front of him. The Mafia had turned up unexpectedly. Alfie was knowledgeable enough to know they were best avoided. Despite his best efforts and being far more accommodating than usual, this lot just wouldn’t go. He needed to get things back to how they should be. Him in charge, and them uncomfortable. Things were going to change tonight.

Making vague grumbling noises, Alfie stretches looking down over the dance floor and tables surrounding it. From his vantage point on the first floor, he can see the entire ground floor of the club. His heart stops, actually stops in his fucking chest. Jenny is sitting downstairs at a table, pride of fucking place so it would seem. Of all the fucking places she could be. The manager, sitting next to her chatting away. She looked fucking amazing. Truly cock-achingly beautiful.

Alfie begins to mutter in hopes of masking any expression on his face. An expression caused by seeing; one, the girl he was very, very keen on thank you very much out on the town without him; two, looking absolutely fucking amazing; three, said girl talking happily with a man who was not himself; and four and most importantly said girl so fucking close to the fucking piece of shit sitting across from him. Despite his every fucking effort to ensure they would never be in the same street let alone the same fucking building. All he had done in the past week to keep her away, to prevent the Mafia from thinking she was anything more than a bookkeeper. All that could be destroyed right fucking now. He needed to be very careful here, very careful indeed.

Ollie notices the eyebrow twitch, pout combination again. His eyes quickly look to where Alfie’s had been. Jenny. Fuck!

“Human body is a strange thing innit?” Alfie begins, seemingly randomly to everyone but Ollie. Ollie recognises the look on his face. The baffle and bemuse them technique was about to be deployed.

“Pardon?” The Mafia man says cutting himself off mid-sentence.

Alfie grunts. Good, got him off guard. Now to make sure he doesn’t notice Jenny. He leans forward, forearms resting on the tabletop, forcing the Mafia men to focus on him more closely, drawing their attention away from the ground floor. “Amazing the body is. Did ya know that you can only talk when ya breathin’ out? Exhaling. Can’t make a fuckin’ sound when ya breathing in. Inspiration they call it when ya breathe in.” Alfie waves his hands theatrically. Simultaneously praying that Jenny didn’t look up and see him or Ollie and decide to come and say hello if she was even interested in saying hello. She was probably too busy with her new man. Fuck it, Alfie stay on task. Alfie chastises himself.

The Mafia men watch him, and then each other. Slightly bemused expressions on their faces.

“See, so ya can’t get inspiration when ya talking, can ya? Now for the last few days, I’ve been listening to you talk and talk. So I’ve had plenty of time for inspiration, right?”

“And what inspiration would that be?” The Mafia man asks non-plussed.

Alfie sits back opening his hands broadly “Well actually I’ve been thinking about South America.” Alfie’s eyes flick quickly to Ollie, who manages to convey, that yes he had seen Jenny and what was it Alfie wanted him to do about it, with a twitch of his eyebrow.

“Really?” The Mafia man says sitting back with a smirk.

Ollie sees the twitch at the corner of Alfie’s mouth telling him to just watch for now. But if it looks like she’s even thinking about coming up here, get her the fuck away.    

“Hmmm, yes.” Alfie adjusts himself in his chair, turning so his back is towards the balustrade. “Did you know they have a snake in South America that’s so big it can swallow a cow? Whole. A whole fucking cow. People too apparently. Anaconda they call it.”

The Mafia man shrugs. “So?”

“Well I was thinking you must have a lot of snakes there in New York, what with all the sneaky goings on there,” Alfie says, his voice getting lower his disdain now evident.

“We’re in North America. No anacondas.” The Mafia man says condescendingly.

“See now here’s the interesting thing right,” Alfie says lowering his voice forcing the men to lean in to hear him. “The snakes you have, they will lash out and bite you, fill ya with their poison right. Attack. Right?” The Mafia men nod. 

Ollie looks down surreptitiously while the Mafia men are held captive within Alfie’s ramblings. There’s another man with Jenny, sitting very, very close to her. He’s fucking huge. Make’s Goliath look like a child. He’s chatting happily with Jenny. The man has his arm around Jenny’s shoulders. Ollie says a silent and urgent prayer asking God to ensure Alfie doesn’t choose this moment to glance down again. Knowing the poor man would most likely have a bullet through his brain before he drew his next breath, which would create a fuck tonne of work for him. 

“Well anacondas, now they are an entirely different beastie.” Alfie continues with his story. “The anaconda will wait until you are relaxed, sleeping perhaps, and it will wind itself around you. It doesn’t need to attack, no poison, it just wraps itself around you and waits. Do you know what it waits for? Hmmm?” Alfie asks the men his forearms rising from the table as he brings his hands together under his chin.

“No,” the Mafia man says with a sigh his attention waning.

“This is the genius!” Alfie cries, drawing the attention of the Mafia men back to himself. “The anaconda waits for you to exhale right? And each time you do, it wraps it’s self a little tighter.” Alfie nods catching the eye of each man. “So when you try to inhale ya can’t. So slowly, slowly, the more you exhale, the tighter it gets and the less air you can breathe in, the less inspiration you can have. Until ya trapped, breathless and with no idea of how ya got into the fucking mess you’re in or how the fuck to get out of it.”

The Mafia men straighten, no one missing the implied threat.

“Now ya getting it aren’t ya,” Alfie says, stroking his chin and nodding at each man in turn. “So while you’ve been nattering on for days about excise and taxes and fucking duties and whatever other shit. I’ve been sitting here, getting inspired. While you’ve been looking for a way to attack, to get your poison into me so to speak. I’ve been wrapping myself tighter and tighter around ya, cutting off your fuckin’ air.”

The Mafia men speak to each other rapidly in Italian, all becoming severely agitated.

Alfie sits back in his chair, eyes wide and innocent. “You know, of all the languages I speak, including your native tongue.” He nods pointedly. Ollie has to feign a cough to hide his smirk at the alarmed looks the Mafia men are exchanging. “English is perhaps my favourite.” Alfie continues nodding as he scratches at his chin. “Because no one thing only has one word to describe it. Have at least two fucking words for everything don’t they? For example, breathing out can be called exhaling, or it can be called expiration. See expiration is the opposite of inspiration. I think that’s beautiful myself. Now the other thing about English is the same word can also mean two different things. Fucking nightmare when you’re trying to learn the damn language.” Alfie muses. The Mafia men begin to mutter. Alfie holds his finger up to stop them. “For example, to expire can mean to breathe out or it’s a nice way of saying someone has died. They have fucking expired. They have ceased to breathe.” Alfie rests his hands on his chest, leaning back in his chair. Nodding pointedly at the Mafia men. 

Alfie stands, “So you’re gonna call the people who sent you. Tell them there is a not a single fucking stone out of place here. No way to get ya fucking poison in, no leverage. Yeah?”

The Mafia men stand dumbfounded.

Alfie holds his arms out, herding them “Come on now. Trot on. The boys will take you to make your call.” The men hesitate “Or you can expire right here, now, if you prefer.” Alfie says pulling his gun as his men enter the room. The Mafia men are ushered downstairs.  

\-----------------------------------------------------

As soon as the music starts and you begin to move you feel yourself relax. Gus and you beginning by stepping onto the floor lifting your left legs high and slapping your knees in time to the music. The crowd is quickly clapping along. Despite not having danced together for two years you are moving as one in moments. You grin as you grab Gus’ hand tightly spinning as you swing away from each other before coming together again. You swing your hips in time to the music as you grab each other’s wrists.

Gus looks at you, and you nod, stepping back for momentum before he slides you between his legs, a cheer going up from the audience. You repeat the action twice more before Gus releases one hand and begins to spin you. You float, barely an inch from the floor as Gus steps over you, drawing a gasp from the audience. Gus grabs your other hand again to stop your spin, flicking you on to your feet.

You step quickly across the floor before Gus grabs your waist throwing you high into the air spinning you, so you land facing away from him, only to be swung between his legs once more. Again on your feet you heel, toe tap across the floor before Gus lifts you over his head, throwing you high, you spin three times before he catches you. Holding you, so your stomach is level with his face.

Cheekily you flip his hat from his head with a wink to the crowd as it falls to the floor. In mock horror, Gus ‘drops’ you. You catch your legs around his waist, falling backwards to scoop the hat from the floor before Gus pulls you back up. Putting the hat on your head, you release your legs from Gus, and he swings you from one side of his body to the other. Finally, he places your feet back on the floor, as he reaches for his hat you backflip away holding the hat on your head before ending in the splits. The crowd erupts when you remove the hat from your head and flick it back to Gus. Both breathing hard Gus wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you from the floor. Spinning you out to take a bow. He squeezes your hand knowing this is the bit of the performance you hated the most when it was no longer the two of you and the music.

You bow, as you stand you look up at the first-floor balcony. Alfie stands, gripping the balcony railing so firmly you can see his white knuckles from where you stand. You smile and nod a little. He turns away. Gus looks to you. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Alfie’s here.” Reply as you allow Gus to guide you off the floor to your booth. You sit and look back up to the balcony again. Alfie’s gone. You accept the glass of champagne offered with a sigh, watching the staircase closely.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Alfie barrels down the back stairs, bursting through the door and into the night, kicking the garbage can closest to him. Utterly oblivious to his men still ‘helping’ the Italians into the back of the truck. The men all glance at him nervously. Alfie’s mind is racing, trying to make sense of the mess in his head. He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. Anger, relief, arousal, none, all. FUCK!!!

Ollie sighs following Alfie down the stairs. He gives a little nod to the men to continue their job.  Just when he thought his night was going to end better than he expected, it goes nearly as sideways as it could. 

Standing in the middle of the alleyway fists balled Alfie breathes heavily, eyes closed. Fuck Jenny had looked amazing, bent backwards as she caught the hat in her fingertips, legs wrapped around. Alfie’s eyes spring open. Another man.

Ollie sighs again as Alfie begins pacing, this night was not going to end anytime soon.

\-----------------------------------------------------

The manager approaches you and Gus, smiling broadly and clapping his hands.

“Is there a back entrance to this place?” You ask anxiously, not caring about the manager’s praise, knowing Alfie must have taken another route out of the building.

“Yeah, through the kitchens.” The manager says.

Getting to your feet, you continue “Can you get there from upstairs?”

“Yeah, there’s a staircase that goes directly to the alley.” The manager answers.

“Which way?” You demand. The manager points you in the direction of the kitchen.

You sprint across the floor, not knowing why you’re chasing Alfie, other than the look he had when he caught your eye. A vulnerability you had never seen in him. You suspected few had. Something told you that this time you needed to chase him and make him notice you this time, suspecting that his head currently resembled yours, full of doubt and uncertainty.

So you run. Gus hot on your heels. You dash through the kitchen and out the back door nearly running straight into Alfie.

Alfie’s eyes widen as he sees you, before glancing to his left. Two Italians still kneeling behind the truck. Alfie grabs your upper arms lifting you off the ground, propelling you back into the kitchen, slamming you straight into Gus’ chest.

Gus wraps his arms protectively around you.

“Get inside” Alfie demands eyes blazing, pushing you away.

You shake your head “Alfie we need to talk.” You say reaching out to him.

Alfie ignores you lifting his gaze to Gus “Get her the fuck out of here. She’s not safe.”

Behind Alfie you see Ollie, pushing two men with flour sacks over their heads into the back of a truck and closing the door before bashing on it. The truck pulls out of the alley. Ollie appears at Alfie’s shoulder “They’re gone.” He says. Alfie doesn’t respond still glaring at Gus. “They didn’t see her boss, bags over their heads,” Ollie explains. Alfie releases you and turns away, striding off up the alley. Gus releases you too.

“Alfie.” You call trotting after him, your heart pounding both from the exertion of dancing and your fear of the coming confrontation. Gus and Ollie remain in the doorway regarding each other warily. Alfie stops, no choice really, having reached the end of the alley. You reach out to grab his sleeve, and he tugs it away. “Alfie!” you snap.

Alfie doesn’t respond, instead, turning and leaning back against the wall, examining his fingernails as if this was exactly how he planned to spend his Wednesday night.

“Oh, so it’s silent treatment is it?” You ask hotly.

Alfie shrugs. You shrug back. Both planted to the spot, neither actually looking at the other.  

Ollie groans. “Fuck.”

Gus looks down on Ollie “You must be Ollie.” He says. Ollie nods. “So you got ‘em together then? They a bit useless in that regard?” Gus asks.

Ollie rolls his eyes and nods. Gus lays a kindly hand on Ollie’s shoulder and jerks his head in yours and Alfie’s direction “God if he’s only half as bad as her we’d best go save them from themselves.” Ollie nods in agreement. The pair approach you and Alfie. Ollie, taking up position beside Alfie and Gus beside you. Gus holds his hand out to Alfie “Hello, I’m Gus, I’m Jenny’s best friend. You must be Alfie.” He says.

“Friend. Really?” Alfie says sarcastically, glaring at you while ignoring both Gus and his hand “Cause it looked a bit more than friendly. Fucking all over you, she was, like a fucking whore on payday.”

“You’ve got it all wrong mate,” Gus says calmly

Alfie, despite wanting desperately to believe and for this horrid fucking mess to be over, reacts in the only way he knows how. Confrontation. “Really? Have I now? Why don’t you fuckin' tell me how it is then?”

“Well, she’s not stepping out on you. So perhaps you want to dial it back a bit hey. Might want to reconsider calling ya girl a whore for starters ‘ey.”

“Really?” Alfie sneers.

“Really,” Gus says, drawing himself up to full height before bending at the waist and taking Alfie’s chin in his hand, bringing their faces so close their noses were nearly touching. “Because, just for starters, I’d rather fuck you, or him,” he nods in Ollie’s direction “than her.”

“The fuck?” Alfie and Ollie both exclaim.

“Yeah. You heard right. I fuck men. Preferably, men like you Alfie, big, gruff an’ ‘airy.” Gus says. Alfie glares. “This is the point where you apologise to her, mate.” Gus prompts letting Alfie’s face go and towering over him again.

Alfie bristles, he’s not used to taking orders, even less familiar with apologies. Having a man freely admit to finding him attractive is new too.

You wrap your arms around yourself, looking at the ground. “I wasn’t cheating Alfie. I wasn’t even looking. I’m not like that.” You say softly, the beginnings of tears making your eyes shine.

That broke Alfie. “Fuck.” He steps forward and takes your hands in his. “I know. I’m sorry, love.”

You nod, holding back, hesitating.  

“So we’ve established she’s not been cheating,” Gus says, looking at Alfie who nods. “Although from what I’ve been hearing, I’m not sure I’d blame her if she did.” Gus continues, “No way to treat a woman just ignoring her like that.” He addresses Alfie and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Especially one like this one.” He says with a shake of his head “I’ve known her since the day she was born. Fucking nightmare she is. Gets all up in her head she does, and once she gets going, not a fucking rational thought can get through. But you can.” He says pointing his finger at Alfie’s chest. “She told me about how you understood her. How you calm her down. So maybe you want to tell her what all this ignoring her was about?”

Alfie stands blinking for a moment before regaining his composure. “They were Mafia.” He says nodding towards the other end of the alley. “Looking for a weakness.”

“So you don’t trust me?” You ask quietly stepping back a little and dropping Alfie’s hands. Leaning into Gus, not sure if you would be able to take Alfie confirming your worst fears.

“Fuck no, sweetie, I trust you,” Alfie says his hands taking yours and tugging you back towards him. “It’s everyone else I don’t trust. ‘cept maybe Ollie.” You allow him to pull you back to him, holding your hands in his “I’m sorry love.”

“What’s been going on?” You ask, trying to stop your brain from providing you answers before Alfie does.

“It was all wrong from the beginning. They just showed up, and then they were taking too long with the deal. They were trying to find a way to put pressure on me.” Alfie says, thumbs caressing the back of your hands.

“Right, good. Talking, this is what we’re looking for.” Gus says encouragingly. “So now you just carry on, and Ollie and I will occupy ourselves elsewhere.”

“Drink?” Ollie suggests.

“Sorry mate, you’re not my type,” Gus says with a wink.

“Nor you mine.” Ollie laughs.

The two men leave together, leaving you and Alfie alone in the alley.

Alfie waits until Gus and Ollie have left the alley before he pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms, his hands rubbing your lower back. You feel yourself relax in the safety and support of his hug, squeezing him as tightly as you can. “Fuck love. I’m sorry.” Alfie says as he presses his lips to yours and as always you lose yourself. “You’re my weakness love. The only one I’ve ever had, and fuck me if it isn’t terrifying.”

You give him a quick peck on the cheek “Welcome to my world, love.” You quip. Alfie chuckles slightly, pulling you closer. You hold his eye “I know what you do, and the sort of people you do business with, I knew that coming in. I’m not some innocent. I accept that. But I can’t accept you just ignoring me; I can’t deal with that.”

“I know love. It was wrong. I was trying to keep you safe.” Alfie admits.

“Alfie, if we keep going, people are going to find out. People already know. Shutting me out will not keep me safe.” You tell him.

Alfie nods in agreement. “So what do we do now?” You ask seriously. “Because this will happen again won’t it?”

Alfie sighs “Yes love; it will.”  

“So next time we do it together, right?” You suggest.

“I’d still rather not have ya in the fucking room love,” Alfie says honestly.

“I don’t want to be in the room, fuck I’ll even leave the building, but I need you to talk to me.” You take his face in your hands, holding his eye.

Alfie kisses you. “Okay.” He promises.

The two of you fall together again, hands sliding over each other’s backs, tongues probing, losing yourself in each other. 

Alfie breaks the kiss first, clearing his throat as he turns his body, wrapping his arm around your waist and begins to walk back towards the club. “Now love, about your world,”

“Yes,” you say smiling

“I thought you didn’t perform.” He says head turned towards you.

“Well, that’s not performing, it’s just dancing.” You say wrapping your arm around his waist.

“Right,” Alfie says nodding slowly. “Um, cause I could do to see more of that.” He caresses your hip.

“Well Gus is still here so,” you break off as Alfie playfully taps your ass.

“Not what I was thinking, love.” He says throwing both arms around you and lifting you up, burying his face in your neck, pushing you up against the wall. His bristles making you yelp as he growls against your skin “Not what I was thinking at all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://twistedrunes.tumblr.com/


	4. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the stress and uncertainty of the previous few days, Jenny suffers an anxiety attack, Alfie comforts her and is surprised by a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece includes the following prompts as requested by readers:  
> 1\. I've got you  
> 2\. What's on your mind  
> 3\. I can't breathe  
> 4\. I'm a mess  
> 5\. I love you

“Ah!” Gus says happily as you and Alfie approach the booth, he shuffles closer to the manager, seated between him and Ollie making room next to him for you and Alfie. “All made up then?”

“Yes. Thank you, Gus.” You say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting and shuffling over to make room for Alfie. Once settled you lean over and squeeze Ollie’s hand “You too Ollie, thank you.”  

The manager calls over more bottles of champagne, and a bottle of rum for Ollie and Alfie. You lean back, your head resting against the high back of the booth. Gus looks down on you a little smirk on his lips as he notices the redness on your neck from Alfie’s beard and mouth. You roll your eyes and give him a little shove. 

Alfie’s fingers caress your knee under the table. You return the gesture, smiling when you feel the happy rumble in Alfie’s chest, before slipping your hand into his and linking your fingers. You sit back watching the men talk, not really listening to what they have to say. Unable, even with Alfie’s warmth seeping into you where your shoulder and thigh are pressed together and the stable strength of his hand in yours, to quell the vague sense of unease still gnawing at your brain. Despite Alfie’s profuse apologies and your current physical closeness, things still feel strained between you, as if a gulf is opening between you. You squeeze his hand tighter.

Gus taps your arm, and you turn your head lazily as he lowers his head to whisper in your ear. “Sweets, you take your beautiful man home. I’m gonna stay here for a while. One last hurrah, you know.” He chuckles looking meaningfully at the manager.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him “But,” You begin finding yourself wanting the familiarity and safety of his company. The thought of being alone with Alfie and your thoughts suddenly terrifying. 

Gus shakes his head “I’ll be home in the morning, I promise. Go make things right with Alfie.” He says quietly. You nod.

\-------------------------------------------------

**“What’s on your mind?”**  Alfie asks from the chair where he has settled himself. Watching you as you flit around your lounge room, unable to settle on any one task or to stay in any one place for any length of time. He pats his knee invitingly.

“Nothing.” You say pouring a drink and downing it in one. It was a lie.

After the immediate relief of having Alfie back, your mind had quickly recommenced its ruminations. His presence not enough to soothe you as it had before and now you were on the verge of tears. Unable to sort the thoughts and feelings within you, you were compelled to keep moving.

Alfie stands and positions himself in your path, catching your waist to stop you. “Sweetie,” He says gently pulling you to him. His large hand smoothing your hair while his other arm holds you against him.

This time Alfie’s embrace does not calm you;  in fact, it’s making you feel worse, your heart is pounding and breathing shallow. You pull away, a pang in your heart as you see the little flash of anguish in Alfie’s eyes. You wring your hands in front of you unable to speak. Alfie reaches for you tentatively, fingers glancing off your forearm. “I’m sorry,” he begins.

“No,” you whimper not in response to his words but a desperate prayer against the inevitable coming maelstrom. Heart pounding, sweat beading on your brow and with hot tears running down your cheeks, you know what’s coming. Your vision begins to close in until you can only see Alfie in front of you. Seeing your distress, he steps forward and pulls you to him, trapping your arms between you. You are grateful for the support, feeling as if you could faint at any moment.

Alfie holds your trembling body against him as you gasp for breath. Only loosening his hold when he can feel you struggling against him, looking down he sees your fingers clawing at the neckline of your dress, your nails raising bright red welts on your throat.  **“I can’t breathe,”**  you cry in anguish grabbing a handful of the fabric on your chest and pulling it away from you desperate for some relief.

Alfie’s brow furrows at the sight of the angry marks on your throat. He quickly unzips your dress. You yank at the loosened fabric, freeing your arms and pushing it down, causing it to bunch at your waist. “Better?” He asks quietly.

You sway in his arms, light-headedness making you swoon. Immediately Alfie swoops you up in his arms and carries you upstairs to the bedroom. Returning you to your feet, he supports you with one arm while he tugs your dress from your hips allowing it to drop to the floor. “Too scary in the dark innit, keep the monsters away,” he says as much to himself as you as he flicks on the bedside lamp. He guides you onto the bed, removing your shoes and unclipping your stockings. Then he lifts your arms, wrapping them around his waist and resting your head against his stomach. Your breath is coming in gasps as he pulls the pins from your hair and drops them on the side table.

Alfie pulls the covers back and lifts your legs, kissing your forehead lightly as he pulls the covers up. Working quickly he undresses, leaving his boxers on, climbing into bed with you and propping himself up on some pillows, Alfie pulls you against his side resting your head on his chest. His arm is wrapped around you, hand resting on your hip. His other hand caresses the back of your head, tenderly holding your ear over his heart. “Now we’re just gonna breathe. Right? In and out.” Alfie says slowly drawing out the syllables. He concentrates on keeping his breathing steady and deep, guiding you. “Everything is going to be alright.  **I’ve got you.** ” He repeats intermittently.

As the storm passes and your breathing slows, you begin to trace the lines of the tattoos on Alfie’s chest. Unable to see them clearly so close and at such an odd angle they just become an intricate pattern, giving your mind something to focus itself on as your finger meanders across the firmness of his chest.  

Alfie adjusts himself slightly, shuffling you up so he can press his lips to the top of your head “You feeling a bit better now love?” He asks quietly.

You tilt your head back to meet his eye. Giving him a little nod as you bring your hand from his chest to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry.  **I’m a mess.** ” You reply.

Catching your hand Alfie kisses the palm softly before guiding it back to his chest. The gentle weight of his hand holding it there. “Was all that because of the last few days or something else?”

“Something else, the last few days, both.” You conclude with a sigh.

Alfie smiles a little and rubs his hand along your arm. “Hmm?” He hums encouraging you to continue.

Your gaze falls to his chest again, your finger finding a trail again and following it. “It’s something I’ve been kind of thinking about for a while.” You begin “But I could never find the right time to bring it up and then I thought you didn’t like me anymore.” Your voice cracks a little.

You feel Alfie sigh, “I’m sorry love.” He says kissing your forehead and squeezing you.

You push on, a sense of urgency overwhelming you “And I wanted everything to be,” You hesitate in embarrassment.

“Perfect,” Alfie offers the word rumbling warmly from his chest.

“Yeah,” you agree ruefully.

“Right, well I’ve decided this is the perfect time.” Alfie nods agreeing with himself, as he gives you another squeeze “So out with it yeah.” He says with false gruffness.

You take a deep breath and prop yourself up on your elbow so you can see Alfie’s face more clearly. “ **I love you** , Alfie.” You say your hand finding his neck you can feel tension under your hand as the words leave your mouth. “I did on the day you told me you loved me and I have every day since. I think I’ll love you every day from now on. So that’s it. I love you.” You say quickly your heart beginning to pound again.

Alfie’s rolls on his side and shuffles down, so your foreheads are pressed together. His hands quickly finding your cheeks and holding your face, his eyes searching yours “Really?” He asks.

“Really.” You agree with a smile. Taking his face in your hands and guiding his lips to yours. Your eyes close as Alfie’s arm wraps around your waist securing him against you. His other hand cradling the back of your head as his tongue finds yours. Your hands slide from his cheeks to his neck and shoulders, revelling in the strength you find there. Alfie’s fingers work into your hair, and you moan softly, as you feel everything else melt away. Finally secure and safe in Alfie’s arms you feel calm, tranquillity settling over you as you lose yourself in him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://twistedrunes.tumblr.com/


	5. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts with a picnic, uncovers a break-in and ends in bed, overall a very good Sunday.   
> This chapter takes a step back in time to a significant relationship milestone we have missed previously and so is set between Alfie and Jenny’s first date and Alfie meeting Jenny’s parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written in response to the following reader requests:  
> \- reader losing their virginity to Alfie  
> \- I was inspired by one pic from one tattoo master's Instagram feed. It was a half-moon around numerous moles. The caption said "In the morning in a warm bed somebody will join the noles into constellations" Alfie touches your skin joining the moles into constellations

“Ah! Here we go!” Alfie says triumphantly as he uses his cane to pull some weed from the river you’re walking along. He takes the plant between two fingers and, making sure to tuck you behind him to avoid any spray, shakes it vigorously. He plucks one of the fleshy, globular leaves and holds it in front of your mouth “Try some.” He says.

“Eat a weed?” You ask screwing up your nose.

Alfie looks slightly indignant “Not just some weed, is it? Watercress.”  He explains popping the leaf into his mouth, eyes holding yours as he chews it. “Delicious it is.”

“Alright” you smile, plucking a leaf and popping it in your mouth. “Mm,” you hum chewing it slowly, enjoying the crisp texture and peppery taste “It’s nice.”

“See.” He says. You nod in agreement. Alfie bends down and plucks some broad, soft leaves from amongst the clumps of white flowers at his feet. He bops the tip of one of the leaves against your nose before tracing your lip lightly. You take a bite from the end of the leaf, a fresh, mellow taste of garlic fills your mouth. “Yum,” you hum again.

“Wild garlic,” Alfie explains his eyes sparkling as he watches you.

“Lovely.” You confirm.

“Not nearly as lovely as yourself,” Alfie says in your ear his arm sliding around your shoulders before he kisses your cheek. You duck your head blushing. “We’re not at work,” Alfie says giving your shoulder a little squeeze.

You look up at him, your heart pounding a million thoughts and feelings rushing through you. “I know.” You say shyly looking away from his gaze.

“Hmm,” Alfie says his arm dropping.

Disappointment and frustration fill you at the loss of his touch. You catch his hand in yours, squeezing it gently, hoping desperately to sooth the anxiety filling your head with fears and doubts. “I know.” You repeat smiling a little.

Alfie nods. “Time to eat I think.” He says keeping hold of your hand as he leads you back to the blanket he had laid out under the branches of a large chestnut tree before your walk.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The picnic had been an impromptu but pleasant surprise. Alfie, arriving on your doorstep early that Sunday morning and asking you to join him for a drive and picnic. It had been hot all week; the heat seemed to thicken the smog and stench of London. You had agreed without thinking. It came later, of course, the thinking, as you drove through Camden and out into the surrounding countryside the fresh breeze and sun replacing the oppression of the city.

About half-way you had suddenly realised you were with Alfie alone. The first time you had been properly alone together. You had been dating for a few weeks now, but you had only been to dinner a few times, work and other obligations keeping Alfie busy. Sometimes he picked you up or dropped you home from work himself, but more often than not it was Ollie who drove. Alfie had been in your house a few times, but he was acutely aware of the neighbours gossiping so never stayed long. You knew it was partly your fault. Because of your shyness, you had asked him not to kiss you, or even touch you at work in case anyone saw you. And you didn’t want to be intimate at work, but you had found yourself wishing for more, hoping for more. You were even dreaming of more, finding yourself increasingly distracted when you were with, looking at or even just thinking about Alfie.

You just didn’t know how to tell him what you wanted.  Here in the car next to him, you found yourself paralysed with fear. Both wanting to be closer and fearful of what that would entail. Your heart raced as your mind spewed a torrent of possible scenarios. All the ways you could embarrass yourself. All the things you could do to make Alfie realise the mistake he had made wanting to be with you. You found yourself drumming your fingers, tapping out three sets of three against the leather of the seat with one hand, the other gripping the door handle so tightly your knuckles were white.

As if he could read your mind Alfie had taken your hand in his and raised it to his mouth, kissing the back of it, his lips warm and soft against your skin, before thanking you for coming with him. The corners of his eyes crinkling up slightly as he looked away from the road briefly to smile at you. The gentle pressure of his hand had calmed you enough that you had managed to enjoy the view and listen to Alfie’s small talk about this and that. He would release your hand occasionally, placing it on the top of his thigh while he changed gears, but as soon as he had finished, he would take it or put his hand over it again. By the time you arrived, you had felt an unusual sense of calm.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Back at the blanket, you both sit, Alfie, unpacking the hamper and setting things out. He pours you some lemonade, and you watch him as he cuts slices of bread and cheese before putting some of the watercress and wild garlic leaves on them. He hands you one “Here you go, love.”

You take a bite and chew slowly. “Its lovely, thank you. How’d you even know that stuff is edible?” You ask after swallowing.  

“Me Mum.” Alfie says, his voice taking on an affectionate tone as he constructs his sandwich, “taught me all kinds of stuff about nature, the forest, how to find food, which mushrooms to avoid, what herbs to use when ya sick or hurt.” He trails off for a moment “People used to say she was a bit of a witch.” He says, his voice taking on a harder edge.  

“Does she live in London?” you ask.

“No,” Alfie says.

“Do you get to see her much?” You continue, Alfie spoke as little about his family as you did yours and you were curious.

Alfie takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing and swallowing before answering. “No love, she died. Got killed actually.”

Your hand flies to your mouth, and your head drops, instantly ashamed of yourself. “Oh God, Alfie I’m so sorry, I’m such an idiot.”

Alfie shakes his head, puts down his sandwich and takes your hands in his. “Now love, wasn’t you that killed her was it? So there ain’t no need for you to apologise, right.” You shake your head, cursing yourself for ruining a perfectly good day. Alfie lifts your jaw with his index finger and waits for you to meet his gaze. Once you’re looking at him, his hand drops to your knee, and he shuffles closer, “And you didn’t know, so you’re not an idiot for asking are ya?” Your head drops again, still kicking yourself for your lack of tact. “Fucking normal to ask these things when ya getting to know someone innit?” He says nodding in agreement with himself. A habit you found enormously endearing. You nod a warm feeling in your chest with his reference to your relationship. “Speaking of which, what about your parents, they still with us?” He asks before taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Still alive.” You reply.

“Should organise a time to meet ‘em,” Alfie says offhandedly.

A new anxiety grips your chest. “They don’t live in London.” You reply quickly.

“Hmm.” Alfie hums.

“This really is delicious.” You say giving him a shy grin as you change the subject. You notice Alfie’s eyebrow quirk slightly at your avoidance of the topic.

“Yeah, well, it’s all about the ingredients innit.” He says good-humouredly, nodding in agreement with himself. The small action making you smile again. Noticing he elaborates “See there are all sorts of delicious things to eat in the forest. In France they have truffles, ugly gnarling things they are right. Ya have ta dig ‘em out of the ground, well that’s if the fuckin’ pig doesn’t get ‘em first.” He scowls for a moment before continuing “But you take that truffle, whisk some duck eggs and make an omelette, and it’s fuckin’ phenomenal. Right two ingredients and fuckin’ perfection.” He says his tongue flitting over his lips. The sight of which causes your heart to pound.  

Alfie grins and begins a long and detailed story about the time he went truffle hunting with a farmer and his pig while he was in France during the war. You both eat your sandwiches as he tells his story. He pauses when he reaches the part in the story where he met the farmer’s daughter, and she made him a truffle omelette, before rapidly changing the subject to other fungi and mushrooms.

You watch Alfie as he talks, noticing how his hands dance more than usual when he’s passionate about something. Watching his fingers, thinking about how you cherish the feel of them on your cheek, or how they tighten on your waist when he kisses you. Thinking about how you want to feel them elsewhere on your body. Imagining his light touch grazing your breast or thigh, the feeling of his warm hands gliding over your body. After weeks of Alfie being more than proper with you, having shared nothing more than a relatively passionate kiss, once, you want more.

Again emotions surge through you, powerful and conflicting, desire and anxiety. You notice Alfie watching you in your periphery vision. Embarrassed, you look up through the branches watching the birds and small animals flit about, Alfie reaches out towards you, his hand coming to rest on your upper arm. His touch is light and friendly, but you can feel the heat of it through the thin fabric of your summer dress causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Am I boring you beautiful?” He asks with a grin.

“No.” You say too quickly, your face flushing.

Alfie scratches his fingers through his beard and shuffles closer. “What’s wrong love?” He asks quietly.

“Nothing.” You insist, trying to meet his eye but not being able to and maintain your lie.

“Yeah, well, you’ve been very quiet, even for you.” Alfie takes your hand in his. “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours yeah?” he says tapping your temple with his free hand, before caressing your cheek with this palm.

“It’s lovely here isn’t it.” You attempt to change the subject again, feeling tears beginning to well in your eyes. Alfie remains silent, waiting. You concentrate on calming yourself, trying not to let your nerves get out of control.  But you’re ashamed by your lack of experience, unsure of how to act and what to do. Terrified of doing something to turn Alfie off or worse. Overwhelmed, your brain looks for an escape. “You finished?” You ask gesturing to his empty plate as you pack up the empty glasses. Alfie merely nods thoughtfully and helps you repack the basket. Finished you quickly get to your feet.

Alfie is just as quick and takes hold of your waist before you have a chance to escape. He watches you, his face open and warm. You feel flustered under his gaze, fears screaming through your mind. A hot tear spills on to your cheek. Alfie brushes it away with his thumb before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest. “Come on sweetie, come’ ‘ere.” He says smoothing your hair before falling silent. “There’s no need to get upset right. Just tryin’ to understand yeah.”

Chastising yourself for your childishness, you lift your hands to his face and pull it down to yours. You kiss him hard, eagerly opening your mouth and slipping your tongue into his. You find your heart racing as you feel his quickened pulse under your fingertips. Alfie’s hands tighten around your waist. Your hands run over his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his muscles through the linen of his shirt. In the heat of the day, Alfie had eschewed overcoat, jacket and waistcoat. Alfie barely moves, a soft groan you feel rather than hear the only sign he’s responding. He pulls away, searching your face. You meet his eye, “We’re not at work Alfie.” You remind him as your heart pounds in your ears, as you caress his neck with your fingertips. Moving closer you tug at his shirt, pulling it from his pants.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Alfie chuckles his hands drop to your ass. You push your hand under the fabric of his shirt, the feeling of your hand on the skin of his stomach makes you both hiss. Alfie’s mouth falls to your neck, his breath hot on your skin before the fire of his lips sear you. You moan softly, and he pulls you closer. Your heart pounds, desire and anxiety warring within you. You try to concentrate on the feeling of his lips on your neck, the warmth of his skin under your hands but you’re fighting a losing battle. Your hands freeze on his chest as your body stiffens defensively.

Feeling your body tense, Alfie stops. Hands returning to your hips as he looks down on you. You can see the hunger leave his expression, replaced with concern.

“It’s nothing.” You say before he has a chance to speak. You try to kiss him again.

Alfie shakes his head. “Now love, don’t lie to me right. I’ve got a sixth sense for lies haven’t I?” You nod. Alfie’s hands come to your upper arms, caressing them lightly. “An’ I don’t want there to be any between us yeah? So stop telling me it’s nothin’.” He insists.

Eyes fixed determinedly on the first fastened button of Alfie’s shirt, you whisper. “I’m nervous.” Silently praying for the ground to swallow you up. Alfie nods and waits for you to continue, his hand coming to your shoulder and caressing it lightly. You glance up briefly before continuing. “I’m nervous about us, well, about us, doing stuff, more.” You stumble over your words, feeling the back of your neck, and your ears burn. “Being physical together.” You finally manage.

Alfie chuckles, pulling you back against him. He lifts your face, so you’re looking at him “Me too.” He says with an easy smile.  

“No, don’t tease me.” You say, your throat tightening with the risk of tears.  

“Not teasin’. Always a little bit nervous the first time with someone innit? Just a case of getting to know each other right?” He says warmly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

Realising he doesn’t understand what you’re trying to tell him, you close your eyes, and take a deep breath. You meet his gaze again before you continue. “It’s not just my first time with you Alfie, it’ll be my first time, with anyone.” You say, barely able to get your voice above a whisper.

Alfie’s forehead becomes a mass of furrows as he watches you, seemingly considering something deeply. He takes your hand and pulls you down with him as he sits back down on the blanket.

His drawn out silence nearly kills you. Panic fills you as you try to find the words to make him understand. “How many women have you been with?” You ask hurriedly.

Alfie clears his throat, glancing at you briefly before turning his attention to a leaf he was poking with his cane. “Yeah well, I don’t exactly keep a tally do I now?”

“More than the farmer’s daughter?” You insist.

“Yes,” Alfie replies, his posture stiffening as he releases your hand.

At any other time, you would marvel at the brevity of Alfie’s response; you had always loved listening to him talk and enjoyed that he would use twelve words when one would do. You try again to make him understand. “That’s at least two more than me.”

“It bothers you that I’ve been with other women? You not want someone like that?” Alfie asks. The distance between you feels like a chasm, despite the fact you could easily reach out and touch him.  

You sigh. “No,” you don’t think Alfie’s ever had more trouble understanding you. He nearly always seems to know you better than you know yourself. “No.” you repeat, shuffling closer, reaching out and placing your hand on his knee in an attempt to close the distance between you. Alfie looks at you, meeting your eye. “No. It’s not that.” You insist. 

Alfie places his hand over yours and gives you a small nod, thumb rubbing the back of your hand, waiting for you to continue. Suddenly you feel calm again. You take a deep breath, “You know what to do, how to make it, good. But, I don’t. I want to make it good for you.” You admit, a slight blush returning to your cheeks.  

Alfie smiles warmly and leans in and rubs his hand over your cheek. “You will. You already do sweetie.” He says quietly. You shake your head unbelievingly. “Yes,” Alfie says sincerely, kissing your cheek. “Every time you touch me.” He says, his voice heavy. Something in his tone makes you slide closer, your hand sliding up his thigh and onto his hip. “Every time you kiss me.” He sighs, his lips finding yours, soft and firm as his arms envelop you. Alfie sighs and holds you against him as he lays you back on the blanket. “We’ll learn how to make each other feel good, yeah.” He promises, looking down at you softly.

You reach up, your hand drawn to Alfie’s neck. “You already do.” You say softly; you can feel the heat of his skin under your palm. “When you hold me.” Still holding his neck, you pull his mouth to yours, “When you kiss me.” You say against his lips before kissing him again. You lose yourself in it, feeling as if you could just float into oblivion, your fingers burying themselves in Alfie’s hair to ground yourself.

Alfie kisses along your jaw, reaching your throat he grazes the skin with his teeth experimentally. Your fingers tighten in his hair as your back arches, your eyes widening in surprise at both the action and your reaction to it. Alfie lifts his head and catches your eye “D’ya like that?” He asks.

“Mm,” you nod before tipping your head back and opening your neck to him. Alfie takes his time, experimenting with speed, technique, pressure and suction. His hand takes yours and presses it against his hip. Following his lead, you slip your hand up, and under his shirt, you skate your fingertips over Alfie’s lower back, your nails digging into his flank as his beard ghosts against the crook of your neck.

“Fuck.” Alfie gasps.

You freeze, pulling your hand away as if you burnt it. “Sorry.” You can feel the blush burning your cheeks. “Did I hurt you?” You ask anxiously rubbing your hand over his back soothingly.

Alfie grins, “Nah. Liked it.” He says with a rakish wink. You blush again. Alfie kisses your cheek and presses light kisses down to your ear “Felt good innit.” Alfie growls before drawing the lobe into your mouth and sucking gently. You gasp and roll on your side facing him. “Good?” Alfie asks eyes full of mock innocence.

“Yeah.” You nod, your fingers rising to the exposed skin on his collar and tracing along the bone.

Alfie catches your hand and brings your fingers to his mouth kissing each individually. You sigh softly, your eyes fluttering closed. Alfie presses your hand against his chest, using his now free hand to brush your hair from your forehead “How is it that you’re so worried about everything, but you’re not afraid of me?” He asks.

Surprised at Alfie’s question you look at him for a moment before answering, unsure if he is joking or not. Deciding he’s serious you take a deep breath and press your hand against Alfie’s chest again, feeling the reassuring rhythm of his heart “I can’t explain it. I just feel safe with you, and when you hold me it’s like all the noise stops, and for just a little while I can relax.” You stop talking, blood pounding in your ears.

“Good.” Alfie’s hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, and he pulls you against him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. You reach up and cup his cheek in your hand, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone before kissing him. Alfie smiles as you break the kiss, “We’ll just take it slow, yeah. No need to rush things.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“You want to come in?” You ask Alfie as the car comes to a stop outside your house, the beginning of the long twilight just beginning to blush the sky. You had laid together for hours, talking, kissing and caressing each other on the blanket. You can’t believe how calm you feel, the time in Alfie’s presence having stilled your mind. You feel a little drunk on the unfamiliar sensation of being relaxed.

“Be ungentlemanly not to make sure you get in safely,” Alfie says with a grin, before striding around the car to open your door.

“Thank you, kind Sir.” You joke taking his hand as you step down.

Alfie leans against the door frame as you find your keys. You can’t help but notice how strong he looks, his suspenders pulling his shirt tight over his chest. “Do you want a cup of tea?” You ask as you open the door.

“Sounds lovely,” Alfie says, putting his hat on the hook by the door. You lead the way to the kitchen. As you step through the doorway, Alfie grabs your wrist, stopping you abruptly. “The door.” Alfie nods towards your back door, which was wide open and barely on its hinges.

Alfie’s demeanour completely changes, the playful Alfie in your hall a moment before gone and replaced by a man with barely contained fury. “Stay behind me.” He instructs, pulling a gun from the pocket of his jacket as he steps into the kitchen and looks around. Satisfied the room is empty he brings you behind him, and he returns to the hall. Alfie works through the rooms quickly and methodically. The sitting room and your bedroom had been ransacked. In your bedroom, the contents of all your drawers are strewn on the floor. Embarrassed you immediately start collecting your underwear from the floor shoving it back in the drawers. “Stay here a minute, yeah. I’m just gonna make a call.” Alfie says, waiting for you to nod before he strides down the hall to the phone.

You can hear Alfie barking instructions as you collect pieces of clothing. Under the garments, you find the objects from the top of your bedside drawers, and dresser mostly trinkets Alfie had gifted you since you started working for him. You chin wobbles as you find fragments of a pink shell Alfie had given you weeks ago after a trip to Margate. It was the first thing he had given you after Ollie had pointed out how dense you were about Alfie’s feelings towards you. Keeping it on your bedside, next to the lamp, you had formed the habit of touching it each night before you went to sleep, almost as a way of saying goodnight to Alfie. Tears run down your cheeks as you sink to the floor, sitting amongst the debris as you collect the pieces in your hand.

That’s where Alfie finds you when he returns. He drops into a squat in front of you. “They broke the shell you gave me.” You say tearily, holding out the fragments for Alfie to see.

“Careful now. Watch you don’t cut yourself.” Alfie says pulling his handkerchief from his pocket and turning your hand, so the pieces are collected in the cloth. He carefully folds it and places it back in his pocket before helping you up and wrapping his arms around you. “It was just a shell right, nothin’ important.”

“But you gave it to me; it was special.” You insist looking up at him.

Alfie smiles and kisses the crown of your head “It’s alright love I’ll get you another one, yeah. Take you with me this time.” You nod into his chest allowing yourself to lean against him. “Is there anything missing?” He asks.

“Um,” You sniff and look around the room, you move to your dresser and immediately realise what’s missing. “My jewellery box.” You reply, hands rising to your ears as your fingers graze your lobes you begin to well up again “The earrings you got me for my birthday are gone. Plus my savings.”  

Alfie wraps you in his embrace again. “I’ve got some men coming ‘round.” He says, hand rubbing your back. “They’ll fix up the door and make it all safe again.”

“Are you going?” You ask anxiously.

“We’re going to my place yeah,” Alfie says reassuringly. “Can’t stay here with broken doors and shit can ya?”

“Mr Solomons?” You hear a man’s voice call out.

“’bout fuckin’ time,” Alfie calls out gruffly by way of response before turning his attention back to you. His voice is soft and tender again. “Come on, pack a case and we’ll get going.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Ger’ off Cyril. Ya fuckin embarrassment.” Alfie growls dragging the dogs massive head off your lap by his collar. “Off ta bed with ya.” Alfie points to the pile of blankets to the side of the fire in the sitting room. Cyril goes as directed, sighing as he settles. You had met Cyril at the front door when you arrived. He had looked at you suspiciously until you had offered your hand and then given him a scratch between the ears. Having deemed you acceptable, he hadn’t been more than a few feet away from you since.

“He’s lovely.” You say smiling up at Alfie from the settee.

“Yeah, well meant to be a fucking guard dog innit,” Alfie grumbles.

You laugh softly, standing as you tease Alfie. “Like his owner is he? Looks all big a scary but actually a big softie.”

“Soft? Me? People have been shot for less, love.” Alfie’s growls before one of his rare and beautiful smiles break across his face. “Must just be you ‘ey love? Taming the hearts of wild beasts’” Alfie says tenderly, hands cupping your cheeks before kissing you. He smiles as he pulls away and goes to add another log to the fire. Despite the heat of the past week a cool change had come through and turned the evening decidedly chilly.  

“Dinner was lovely thank you, Alfie.” You say admiring the flow of his muscles under his shirt as he pulls timber from the pile and transfers it to the hearth.

“Better than some weeds from the river?” He jokes looking back at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah.” You say, turning to face him with a warm smile of your own. “But the weeds were pretty good too.” You say as you join him at the fireplace. “You have a beautiful home.” You note looking around the room. It wasn’t as big or as showy as it could have been considering Alfie’s ample means. There was no pretension, the furniture and fittings well-made and fit for purpose without unnecessary embellishment. The one indulgence the bookshelf that covered the back wall which was stuffed full. The space somehow oozed Alfie, from the spicy masculine scents to the large comfortable furnishings.

Alfie slips his arm around your waist and holds you against him. “You alright?” He asks kindly.

You nod, surprised that despite the break-in and being with Alfie alone in his house, where you would be staying for the night, you feel safe and calm. “Mm. Thank you.” You rest your head against Alfie’s shoulder.

“You tired sweetie? Want me to get your room ready?” Alfie asks resting his head against yours.

“No.” You shake your head looking up at him. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you raise yourself up on your toes bringing your lips to his. Alfie’s lips are warm and full against yours and taste faintly of the wine you enjoyed with dinner. Lowering yourself you press your lips against the small groove at the base of his throat where his collarbones met. Grateful as always that Alfie does not favour the fashion of starched collars.

“You just say when, yeah,” Alfie says with a sigh, brushing your hair off your neck. He guides you to the armchair next to the fire, pulling you gently onto his lap. Once you’re settled, with your legs hanging over the arm of the chair, he kisses the corner of your jaw before trailing kisses from your jaw to the neckline of your dress. Your mouths find each other again, not bothering with gentle pecks this time your tongue searches out his immediately. Alfie’s arm rises up your back, his hand resting lightly on the back of your neck, providing you support against the firmness of his kiss; which is what saves you from being knocked to the floor by Cyril when he jumps up, forcing his head between you and snuffling at you both. You burst out laughing. Alfie’s emotions, however, go in the opposite direction. “Cyril! Ya mad cunt! Fuck off!” He yells, pushing Cyril down. Cyril immediately drops to the ground, looking up at his master sorrowfully. “Bed!” Alfie growls. Cyril slinks around to his bed, head down.

“Poor thing.” You coo at his pathetic performance.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Cyril,” Alfie growls again, glaring at his furry companion.

“Owlf.” Cyril vocalises mournfully, causing you to laugh again.

“Did ‘e slobber on ya?” Alfie asks you his voice instantly softer, holding your chin and turning your head to check you in the light.

“I’m fine, Alfie.” You assure him, placing your hand over his and pulling it away.

“Sorry love,” Alfie says kissing your cheek. His hand drops to your ankles, he slips your shoes off your heels, and they fall to the floor with a gentle thud. His hand rests on top of your foot, the fingers circling your ankle. Lips, teeth, tongue and whiskers combine in one sensation on the delicate skin in the crook of your neck. You sigh, your arm wrapping around Alfie’s shoulders. Matching the languid pace of his mouth Alfie’s fingers caress your shin and calf. Grazing the sensitive flesh in the back of your knee as he drags his teeth over your neck. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you squirm slightly in Alfie’s lap, the movement forcing Alfie’s hand onto the top of your knee.

The warm feeling you’ve had in your stomach all afternoon spreads further. Reaching down you guide Alfie’s hand onto your thigh. Alfie hesitates, you meet his eye and nod, before his hand moves higher, the fabric of your dress gathering at his wrist. “It’s good.” You say softly, sliding across his lap, encouraging his hand further still.

“Mm,” Alfie hums in agreement, his eyes flashing as he kisses you again. The kiss trails down your jaw and throat. Alfie supports you as he lays you back, his mouth on your collarbones before travelling down your sternum. His tongue dips under the fabric of the neckline of your dress, your hand gripping the hair on the back of his head as you arch your back. Alfie chuckles drawing his tongue back up your chest. You shiver. “Good?” Alfie asks.

“Yes.” You say your voice low.

A cold nose followed by a warm tongue press along the arch of your foot causes you to squeal and pull your knees up violently. “Fuckin’ ‘ell Cyril!” Alfie bellows, tightening his grip on you managing, only barely, to stop you from tumbling from his lap. Cyril takes himself back to his bed with his tail tucked between his legs. “I’ll fuckin’ put ya outside,” Alfie growls.

“He’s just jealous; he’s not used to sharing you.” You say softly pressing a kiss to Alfie’s cheek. “Plus we are in his room.”

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house innit?” Alfie grumbles still scowling at Cyril who was determinedly not looking at his master.

“Mm,” You agree, dropping your head again and kissing his neck lightly “So maybe we should find another room.”

Alfie turns his attention back to you. “You got one in particular in mind?”

Your heart racing but feeling emboldened you hold his eye “Your room?”

“You sure?” He asks quietly.

You smile, nodding “Yeah.”  

“Right,” Alfie says lifting you to your feet. “Just wait ‘ere a minute ‘ey, and I’ll make sure we’re all locked up yeah. Cyril’ll look after ya.” You nod, and Alfie kisses you before leaving the room. Feeling a heady rush, you sink back down on the chair to wait.

No sooner were you seated than Cyril has his head in your lap looking at you with sorrowful eyes. You scratch his ears, and his eyes close. Quickly, worrying thoughts fill your mind.  Cyril presses his head more firmly into your lap, nudging your stomach with his nose, drawing you out of your mind. You feel a wave of calm wash over you. “Oh, so you can do that too, can you?” You ask quietly, scratching behind his ear. Cyril’s tail wags enthusiastically causing you to smile.

The door opens, and you look up to see Alfie shaking his head, “Fuckin’ ‘ell, and I was worried he wouldn’t like ya.” He says coming and standing next to the chair, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he scratches the top of Cyril’s head. “You be a good lad right. Keep an eye on the house.” Cyril snuffs in seeming agreement and licks Alfie’s hand.

Alfie opens the door to his bedroom, allowing you to go first. Like the rest of the house, it is simple but warm. However it does contain an enormous bed, it had to be at least double the size of your own. You smile at the candles spread around the room and the fire in the hearth. Alfie leans back against the door watching you as you look at the pictures on the mantel. You find yourself drawn to a small painted portrait of a beautiful woman. The twinkle in her eye and smile are instantly familiar. You hear Alfie cross the room, he stops behind you and wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Is this your mum?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He says nuzzling your neck softly.

“You’ve got her eyes.” You say turning your head to kiss his temple. “Same smile too.” You return the frame to its spot on the mantel and turn in Alfie’s arms. You place your hands on his neck, feeling the strength and tension rippling under the skin. “Thank you for a wonderful day.” You say kissing him softly.

Alfie hums happily, his hands rising up your sides. You notice a touch of pink peeking out above the beard on his cheeks “It wasn’t much, just a picnic. Next time I’ll take you somewhere nice yeah, somewhere with no weeds on the menu.” He chuckles.  

“It was perfect.” You assure him. Sliding your hands under his shirt and over the firmness of his stomach before wrapping your arms around his waist and dragging your nails over the small of his back. Alfie groans, his hands tightening on your waist and pulling you against him. You kiss the exposed skin on his chest as you gather his shirt sliding it up his torso.

Alfie grins, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as his hands take the shirt from yours and he pulls it over his head. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch. The warm light of the fire casting his skin in a golden hue, highlighting the definition and tone of his body. Tentatively you reach out, lightly skimming over the skin, feeling the slight twitches of his muscles as you touch them. You weren’t surprised to see he had more tattoos; you recognise the Star of David on one arm and the head of a bear on the other. Alfie drops his shirt on the arm of the chair. Free of the burden his hands rest lightly on your waist as he watches you.

“What do they mean?” You ask tracing some lettering over Alfie’s heart.

“Nothing important.” Alfie says with a shrug, “’Cept this one.” He says covering your hand with his and holding it over the lettering. “This one’s me mum’s, ‘er name, yeah. So that one’s special.”

You nod, rubbing your thumb over the lettering as you press soft kisses onto his chest. Alfie hums approvingly as his hands rise up your sides, his thumbs brushing the side of your breasts causing you to sigh and tighten your grip on his waist. Alfie’s hands glide down your back, broad and firm, mapping your body.  You moan quietly and drag your nails down his back.

Alfie’s head drops, so his mouth is level with your ear “Is that good love?” He asks huskily.

“Yes.” You sigh heavily, unable to think of anything other than the desire to have his skin against yours. You turn, lifting your hair off your neck and dropping your head. “Unzip me.” You shiver as Alfie’s body presses against you, large hand splayed on your abdomen, lips pressed firmly on the back of your neck before light fingers draw the zip down. You lean forward as the zip opens, trusting in Alfie to hold you up as you allow him room to finish his task. Unzipped, you turn again, Alfie’s mouth capturing your own, firm and hungry as he pulls you against him, his hands gripping your ass and lifting you. Arms thrown around his neck, you meet his hunger with your own, hands buried in his hair. You come apart both breathing hard as Alfie returns you gently to the ground.

Bringing your hands to his stomach, you push him gently back towards the armchair. Alfie sits on the edge of the chair, his legs either side of yours, hands still on your waist. Holding eye contact, you begin to peel your dress off your shoulder. Alfie’s eyes follow the progress of the fabric, chewing on his lip as he watches you reveal yourself to him. Not content to watch any longer Alfie’s hands run up your arms, graze your collarbones he pauses, eyes searching yours. You place your hands over his, sliding them down your body gathering the fabric of your dress. You let go of his hands as they pass your hips. Alfie guides your dress over your ass, releasing it to fall around your ankles.

With a sigh Alfie pulls you closer, pressing hot, heavy kisses against your stomach. Your hands come to the tops of his shoulders for support as your head falls back and you moan softly. You can feel heat building between your legs. Alfie lifts you easily pulling you into his lap. Your legs opening eagerly to straddle his thighs. Again your mouths find each other, eyes burning as your passion increases. Hands roam, exploring newly exposed flesh as you moan into each other’s mouths with each new sensation. Your hips buck and roll as Alfie’s mouth travels down your sternum, his beard teasing the sensitive flesh between your breasts. You grab at his neck and shoulders as he mouths you through your bra while his fingers make quick work of the fastenings. His hands come to your shoulders sliding the delicate fabric down your arms. You lean back, reclining until you are laid out before him, Alfie removes your bra, dropping it beside the chair. He groans and swears under his breath as his hand trails from your throat, down between your now bare breasts and over your abdomen, your body arching up to meet his touch.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Alfie growls into your skin as he slides his arm under you, pulling you back up. You rise up on your knees bringing your chest level with his face. Alfie doesn’t hesitate in taking your breast in his mouth, his tongue teasing the nipple until it hardens causing you to groan and grip at his shoulders. Alfie releases your breast with a pop before languidly moving to the other, bringing the nipple quickly to aching attention. Moaning you press against Alfie’s growing hardness, grinding against him. Alfie releases your breast, hands guiding your hips as he kisses your neck.

Again you moan, your hands plunging into his hair as you pull his mouth to yours. Your tongues swirling against each other. Unfamiliar feelings fill you, wants and urges you can’t articulate, your grinding becoming more insistent. Alfie rolls his hips slowly under you. Your head drops to Alfie’s shoulder as you moan.

“Are you alright sweetie?” Alfie asks, his whiskers brushing against your neck making you squirm. He chuckles at your reaction his arms wrapping around you as he rubs your back soothingly.

A thousand thoughts and feelings tumble through your mind. Thoughts about what you want Alfie to do to you, what you want to do to him. How you need to feel him, touch him, be with him. “I’m good.” You breathe unable to find words.

“I know love.” Alfie murmurs in your ear “Ya soaked my pants.”

Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s saying, cheeks burning with shame. “Sorry.” You mumble shuffling backwards to get down.  

Alfie holds you, preventing your escape “Don’t be.” He says pulling you back to him.

“But, it’s not nice.” You whisper, dropping your head.

“Who the fuck told you that?” Alfie grunts. You shake your head, the shame of Frank Fisher with his hand in your pants disgusted by the wetness he found there, too much to put into words. “Some fuckin’ boy?” Alfie, spits the last word shaking his head. “For fuck’s sake, fuckin’ brilliant innit.” He declares. He kisses your jaw “Does it feel good?” He asks hungrily.

“Yes.” You reply quietly lifting your head.

“Yeah, well, fuckin’ doin’ things for me innit. Knowin’, ya turned on, that ya feel good. Fuckin’ perfect.” He beams, his hands caressing you lightly as he speaks.

The tender touch makes your stomach leap and your heart pound. His words soothe the burn on your cheeks. You slide your hands down over his shoulders to his chest, your hand pressed against his heart. His steady, although more rapid than usual, heartbeat still manages to calm you. “Does it feel good?” You ask hesitantly.

“Fuckin’ amazing.” Alfie grins, his eyes travelling over you hungrily. You can’t help but smile watching Alfie watch you. Realising that his hunger is for you, making your heart pound and your breath hitch. Alfie kisses you, his hands pressing lightly down on your thighs closing the small gap between you. You both moan with the contact. Alfie keeps his hands on your thighs, rubbing over them, thumbs running along the inside, stopping just short of the edge of your underwear. Quickly your nerves dissipate, and the warm, tight feeling in your stomach returns. Alfie’s thumb grazes lightly over the thin fabric covering your centre.

“Oh, fuck.” You gasp eyes widening at the sensation. You can feel Alfie’s smile against your neck as his hands slide down your thighs before edging up again.

You trail your hand down his stomach following the light trail of hair from his belly button to the waistband of his pants. You slide your finger under the band. Alfie rolls his hips and sighs against your neck, nipping you lightly as you undo the fastenings and slide your hand between the fabrics of his trousers and boxers. “Fuck.” Alfie groans, rocking his hips and pushing his clothed cock further into your hand, as his thumb caresses you through the satin as your panties. He presses his lips to yours dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. “That feels fuckin’ phenomenal.” He says.

“Mm,” you agree, pushing against Alfie’s thumb as he parts you through the fabric. You jerk a little as he grazes of the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of his stoke. You hand tightens on his growing length. Alfie’s thumb remains in place, working small circles over your pulsing clit. Your eyes flutter as you quickly undo the buttons on Alfie’s boxers. You both inhale sharply as your hand wraps around the velvety girth of Alfie’s cock, carefully you draw him out of the confines of his boxers. You smile, shyly as you look down on him, tentatively sliding your hand along his length. Alfie’s eyes close for a moment as you complete your stroke.

You squirm against his hand, wanting, craving more. “Touch me, Alfie.“ You whimper. “Please.”

Alfie growls against your neck, the vibration teasing every nerve in your body, his fingers tracing over the crotch of your panties. You swear in unison as Alfie’s thumb slides under the fabric, circling your clit slowly. You pump his cock tentatively.

“Harder.” Alfie groans in your ear.

“Show me.” You say holding his eye, your stomach lurching as your watch his pupil’s blow.

Alfie’s hand surrounds yours, guiding your strokes along his length. His strokes are longer, faster and firmer than your own. His thumb matches the pace, rolling around your clit. You grind down on his hand as you moan. Alfie’s hand releases yours, and you continue as you’ve been shown. Alfie’s head drops back “Fuckin’ phenomenal.” He repeats.

Your stomach begins to tighten and your breathing becomes rapid. “Alfie,” You moan, your free hand grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him closer. “I feel,” you break off unable to explain the un-named, previously unknown feeling within you.

“You gonna cum love?” Alfie asks his hand on your neck as his thumb strokes your jaw.

“I think so” You sigh. Alfie’s fingers slide into your hair pulling your mouth against his. His kiss is firm and unyielding. You moan into his mouth as warmth spreads through your body. You break the kiss, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out. You feel your strokes become sloppy and erratic unable to concentrate on both Alfie’s pleasure and preventing yourself from crying out. You let out a stifled cry as your legs quiver.

Alfie begins to tremble against you, damp forehead pressed against your collarbone. His breath is fast and hot, a jumble of words causing his lips to brush against your skin. You bring your free hand into his hair, tugging gently. Groaning Alfie’s hips buck, his hand sliding down your back pulling you against him, his cock becoming trapped between you. “Fuck.” Alfie cries out as he cums, hot semen coating your stomachs. You grunt as you lose yourself, shaking as Alfie holds you against him. You collapse onto him, breathing hard and feeling like you can barely control your limbs. You press lazy kisses against his chest as his fingertips skate over your skin causing you to shiver.  Alfie takes his shirt from the arm of the chair, using it to wipe down your hand and forearm before cleaning your stomach and then his. Completing his task he kisses you “Was that good love?” He asks grinning.

“So good.” You agree, collapsing back against his chest, enjoying the warm, fuzzy, heavy feeling in your body.

Alfie’s hands slide to your ass, lifting you as he stands. He wraps his arm around your waist as he pushes his trousers and boxers to the floor, stepping out of them he carries you easily to the bed. Laying you down on its surface, he bends and kisses your stomach. Your fingers work into his hair and tug gently encouraging him back to you. “Not yet darling.” Alfie smiles his fingers gliding over your hips on to your thighs. He makes short work of the clips on your stockings before he traces the edge of your garter belt with one finger, undoing the clasp and removing it. His hands slide over your hips before dragging your stockings down your legs; you shiver a little as the silky fabric teases over your skin. He links his fingers into your underwear, and you lift your hips as he removes them.

Crawling up the bed Alfie positions himself above you and kisses you before he lays on his side next to you. His fingertips, gliding over your body. He hesitates on the inside of your hip, tracing and retracing a pattern there. He sits up watching the spot closely “Alfie?” You ask nervously.

Alfie snaps out of his contemplation smiling broadly. “Sorry love got distracted. Ya see these freckles are the shape of Ursula Minor, the little bear constellation, and that means that here,” he traces a tiny circle over one of the freckles “is the North Star.” He concludes leaning over and pressing his lips over the spot.

You squirm and giggle both at Alfie’s seemingly endless supply of trivia and the feeling of his beard tickling the sensitive skin. “That tickles.” You say swatting at him playfully.

“Very important star, the North Star.” Alfie muses not moving his mouth away from your hip.

“Alfie!” You laugh as you scramble away.

Alfie’s eyes sparkle as he grabs your hips and pulls you back to him, so he is kneeling between your legs. Holding your hips, he kisses the inside of your hip again “Navigation star innit. Helps ya find your way yeah.” He says, holding your eye as he drags his beard down to the inside of your thigh, nipping it softly.

“Oh, fuck.” You sigh as you shudder under his touch.

“Let me taste you?” Alfie asks needfully.

Heart pounding and voice caught in your throat you nod your consent.

“I’ll make it feel good for you,” Alfie promises, hooking your leg over his shoulder. He kisses the insides of your thighs before pressing his lips lightly against your centre. The light touch, automatically drawing your hands into his hair. Your eyes roll back in your head as Alfie uses the tip of his tongue to part you. Still sensitive you shiver. Alfie looks up at you, meeting your eye questioningly.

“It’s good.” You assure him tugging on his hair gently.

Alfie holds eye contact as he laps at you, he groans deeply against you “Like fuckin’ nectar.” He says as much to himself as you. The deep vibration, making you push against him. Alfie’s arm wraps around your waist locking you in place as Alfie’s mouth brings you to the edge again.

“Alfie,” You mumble “more.”

Alfie lifts his head bringing his hand to your entrance. “Tell me if it hurts,” he instructs before returning his mouth to your clit and tracing his finger around your opening.

“I will.” You promise.

Alfie continues as before until you are squirming again trying to push yourself down onto Alfie’s finger. Relenting he slides his finger into you slowly. You hiss not out of pain but rather due to the unfamiliar feeling. As you adjust, you feel the warmth spread through your stomach again.

“Sweetie?” Alfie enquires softly.

“So good.” You reply. You lift your head and meet his eye as his tongue flicks your clit “More.”

Alfie sucks on your clit and slides a second finger into you with the first. You garble something unintelligible as the gentle burn returns. You can feel your thighs becoming coated in your slick and Alfie’s spit. Your hand grabs onto the wrist holding you in place; you can feel the ropey muscles of Alfie’s forearm writhe under your grip. Alfie lifts his head again not breaking the rhythm of his fingers. You tug on his hair encouraging him up to you. Alfie brings his mouth to yours, never breaking rhythm with his fingers. You kiss hungrily, enjoying the sweet taste of yourself on his tongue.

“More Alfie, please.” You beg, lifting your leg and pressing your heel into his butt.

Alfie moans into your mouth, meeting your eyes “You sure?” He asks quietly.

You take Alfie’s face in your hands, caressing the soft hair on his cheeks. “Yes.”

Alfie adjusts himself, removing his fingers from you he rubs your slick along his cock, holding himself as he collects more by rubbing up and down your slit, you both groan. Alfie presses against you, and you sigh as he enters you. He smooths your hair and kisses you speaking soothing words assuring you. Telling you to be patient while you adjust. Slowly he sinks into you. You lose yourself in the sensation; the warm stretched feeling delighting you. “Now just relax love.” Alfie encourages you.

“So good.” You manage to mumble. You rock against him as Alfie begins to pump his hips slowly. Alfie’s pace quickens as you claw at his back, desperate to be as close as possible. You feel your stomach filling with warmth again. Alfie kisses your neck and throat. “Alfie, I’m gonna cum again.” You moan into his shoulder.

Alfie smooths your hair and kisses your cheeks “Just relax love. Don’t hold back like last time, yeah. Let go. I’ve got you.” He says, his eyes burning into yours.

Knowing you can trust him completely you let go, nails digging into his back and sides, heels pressed into his thighs as you cry out “Oh, Fuck, Alfie.” You lose yourself in the sensation, feeling like you are simultaneously falling and fracturing. Aware only of Alfie’s strength holding you together and the affection in his eyes.

Hips bucking Alfie cums as your muscles clench around him and your teeth dig into his shoulder.  

Alfie kisses you as his hips still “Are you, alright love?” He asks gently.

“Perfect.” You sigh. “You?”

“Fuckin’ phenomenal.” He grins. You can’t help but smile back. Alfie pulls out, stroking your cheek as you sigh at the loss. “Come on love, into bed, don’t want ya getting cold.” He says as he adjusts you and the covers before laying down beside you, pulling you against him as he pulls the covers over you both, laying together you caress each other, whispering praises and stealing kisses until you fall asleep, warm, relaxed and content.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also post on Tumblr: https://twistedrunes.tumblr.com


	6. Home and Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on from the end of chapter four. Jenny's learning to defend herself. Alfie's travelling a lot for business. Things are changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on the following prompts:  
> \- You had a very bad day, extremely exhausted and stuff, and Alfie makes you tea, you sit on the sofa by the fireplace, and he’s reading to you your favourite book  
> \- Now that they agreed on doing this together in the future, I imagine him teaching her to defend herself. Just in case. She gets a gun. But what if there's no time to draw the gun? Fighting. She doesn't have his brute strength. It's frustrating because he doesn't know how she'll be able to get away from a guy his size. But I imagine dancing isn't the only thing she learned in the circus.

 

Bracing yourself, you raise your arms, cock the gun with your thumb, focus on the target and fire. “Oof.” You grunt, as yet again the recoil knocks you back into Alfie’s chest.

Alfie’s arm tightens around your waist preventing you from bouncing off his chest and pitching forward “Careful.” He says squeezing you gently and dropping a kiss onto the top of your shoulder.

“Ugh” you grunt getting frustrated at your continued inability to stand firm against the recoil.            

“Fuckin’ good shot though,” Alfie says, not even trying to keep the pride from his voice. “You just need to stay on ya feet yeah.” He says taking the gun from your hand, emptying the casings and putting it on the table. He turns you round to face him, kissing you as he lifts you onto a conveniently placed stack of crates.  

You lean forward wrapping your arms around his middle. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” You mumble into his chest.

“It’s alright love; you’ll get it. Probably enough for today anyway innit.” He says, his hands sliding up your thighs to your hips and pushing his lips against yours tenderly.

You return his kiss, harder as you wrap your arms around his neck and guide him between your knees, pressing your heels to the back of his thighs to pull him closer. “Let’s stay here for a bit; we’ve barely seen each other lately.” You say rubbing your hands over Alfie’s chest, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Here at work!?” Alfie gasps as if shocked, a devilish grin creasing the corner of his eyes.

“Well, there’s no one here.” You laugh and push his chest playfully.

Alfie huffs, grasping at his chest. “Fuckin’ ‘ell girl when you’d get so strong?” He asks.

“It’s all that training you’ve got me doing.” You say lifting your arms and flexing your biceps.

Alfie chuckles, squeezing your upper arms and nodding approvingly. “How’s it going?” He asks, his hands resting on your thighs again.

“Good, Master Chen is lovely. It’s fun.” You say allowing yourself to feel a small amount of pride in how well he said you were doing. Master Chen was one of Alfie’s many unexpected acquaintances. An older gentleman from China who was teaching you a particular style of fighting as a way of defending yourself from would-be attackers. He had assured Alfie that with his training you would be able to protect yourself against an attacker no matter how much bigger or stronger than you, they were.

“Fun?” Alfie asks in surprise.

“Well it’s like rehearsing for the show, it takes discipline. You can only think about what your body is doing, nothing else. It’s relaxing.” You explain.

“And Goliath?” Alfie asks running his fingers through your hair. Goliath was helping you too. He was teaching you some boxing, but mostly he was the person pretending to attack you.

“Fine.” You say sitting back to look up at him. “But you have to tell him to stop holding back. He’s too scared of hurting me. They all are.” You sigh.

“Yeah well, that’s a healthy attitude for ‘em to have innit,” Alfie responds gruffly, his body stiffening.

“Alfie.” You say seriously, taking his face in your hands and holding his gaze. “I understand that you don’t want me to get hurt and that you want me to be safe. But if the chances of someone trying to take me or to hurt me to get at you as serious as you say then this isn’t a game. If anyone does come for me, they won’t be holding back. They will be trying to hurt me to get me to do what they want. If they come for me, they know who you are, and what you will do to get me back. They won’t be playing Alfie. There’s no point me doing this if no one will let me practice for real.” You insist.

Alfie’s eyes close for a moment, his jaw clenching. You watch the range of emotions flicker across his face. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He mutters. He turns his face to kiss your palm before wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close. “Fuck sweetie. You shouldn’t have to worry about shit like that.” He says.

“I knew what being with you would mean Alfie. It’s my choice to be here. So please tell them that you won’t hurt them for sparing with me.”

“Right. No killing those who spar with ya. All kosher innit.” He says flippantly.

“You have to mean it, Alfie.” You insist.

Alfie’s eyes twinkle as his hands slide up to your waist “I do love. I’ll tell ‘em not to go easy on ya alright. Only light maiming for anyone who hurts ya, yeah.”

“Alfie.” You groan at his mocking, collapsing back against the wall and hanging your head back in exasperation.

Alfie pounces, kissing your neck hungrily and pulling you against him. Squirming delightedly, you giggle at the sensation. “I’ll tell ‘em,” Alfie promises.

“Good, you can tell Master Chen’s boys tonight.” You suggest hopefully.

Alfie rubs his hands up and down your sides. “I’m sorry love, but I’ve got another meeting tonight so Jacob will take you to Master Chen’s.” He says punctuating his sentence with a tender kiss. You sigh. You know it’s childish, but it had been a week and a half of meetings and late nights, including a three-day trip away to Birmingham, and you really did miss your time together. Plus you wanted to show him the surprise you and Master Chen had been working on.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you pull him closer. Alfie stops, grinning happily at your reaction. “You been missing me, love?” He rasps in your ear.

You press your forehead against his, your fingers playing in his beard unable to help the smile when your eyes meet his “Yes.” You say sincerely.

Alfie takes your face in his hands and kisses the tip of your nose. “Right, how ‘bout I get Jacob to take you to mine after training yeah? This meeting won’t go late. We’ll have dinner together. You can keep Cyril company until I get home. He’s been missing ya somethin’ terrible.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you, Jacob. Goodnight.” You say closing the door behind you and turning the key, knowing he would be waiting to hear the lock click home.

“’Night Miss,” Jacob says through the door, satisfied you were safely locked away. “I’ll be around if you need me.” He concludes you call your thanks again as you listen to his footsteps going down the stairs.

You make your way to the kitchen and have a glass of water standing at the sink while Cyril drinks from his bowl. You tug at the neckline of your tunic, using it to fan yourself. You shift uncomfortably; your clothes damp with perspiration clinging to your skin. “Time for a shower.” You say to Cyril, scratching his head affectionately.  

Relieved of your training clothes, a simple tunic and trousers, you drop them in the corner, quickly adding your undergarments. In your haste, you barely check the temperature of the water. It is far colder than you expect, causing you to gasp in surprise and pleasure. The fresh cool water cascades over you, drawing the heat from your skin. You hang your head back, the spray pounding against your eyelids and flowing over your ears blocking the outside world. Without stimulation, your brain drifts to Alfie. Remembering being with him in the cellar, his arm wrapped around you, so you didn’t fall, hands on your hips when he lifted you, his beard scratching against your neck and his lips against yours. The cold water and your mental images enough to raise goosebumps on your skin, harden your nipples and leave an ache between your legs. You sigh as you turn off the water, hoping Alfie’s business would be over soon.

Alfie’s bedroom is a sanctuary. With no extravagant finishes or furnishings, it was simple and homely. A large bed against one wall, a fireplace with an armchair beside it, a dresser and a wardrobe. The bed took pride of place; it was enormous. Being both broader and higher than any bed you had ever seen. Alfie had explained that the reason for its height was a particularly bad case of sciatica a few years ago when getting in or out of bed had become practically impossible because he couldn’t bend. So with typical Alfie practicality, he had the bed raised meaning the surface of the mattress was at the right height for him. It was a little higher than was comfortable for you. Although Alfie’s sciatica never seemed to bother him whenever you needed a hand getting it in or out of bed.

In your opinion, the rooms crowning glory was the large bay window. There was no view from the window as it was entirely obscured by a large oak tree. The branches reaching out to the house, shielding the window from both neighbours and the street. Almost embracing the window, its branches welcomed you in. It was like being in a tree house, protected within the canopy, everything outside obscured. During the day the sunlight was diffused through the leaves, filling the room with cool green light. The window contained a large, comfortable seat which you loved to sit in, finding it helped to calm you.  

Barely dry, both your body and hair wrapped in the plush towels Alfie favoured, you make your way to the window, pushing it open, and sighing with the pleasure of the cool breeze over your damp skin. You sink to the seat, pressing your back to the frame and drawing your legs up. You smile as Cyril pads over. He gives your shin a lick, before settling himself in front of the seat. You watch the life in the tree, birds, and small animals. Cyril climbing over the top of you to bark at his arch-nemesis the squirrel when it came to the window. You push him back down, chastising him. Once he was calm, you relax again and rest your head back against the frame.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” You hear Alfie shout, the volume making you jerk in surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” He continues, as his arms scoop you up.

“What? I was just sitting here.” You say startled and confused.

“Weren’t just sitting, fucking sleeping!” Alfie continues moving away from the window.

You can feel his heart pounding against your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek “I’m sorry, I must have drifted off.”

Alfie shakes his head as he sets you on the edge of the bed “Fuckin’ window wide open, could’ve fuckin’ fallen out.” He says, his voice softening.

“I’m fine Alfie, I’m sorry.” You brush your hand over his cheek.

“Fuckin’ near gave me a heart attack,” Alfie admits, quieter now nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat. “I just haven’t been sleeping very well.” You say, resting your head against his.

“Why’s that then?” Alfie asks, his forehead wrinkling in concern as he pulls back to look at you. You hesitate, uncertain what Alfie’s reaction will be. “No secrets yeah, remember?” Alfie reminds you, his fingers working the whiskers around his mouth.

“I’ve been worrying about, stuff.” You offer vaguely.

“Yeah, love, I figured that right. So specifically what kinds of, stuff are we talkin' about?” Alfie asks “You worried about the Mafia, the Shelby’s?” He asks sitting next to you and taking your hand in his.

“No. Not really.” You reply truthfully. “It’s just, well my mind’s been like it was before.”

“Before?”

You blush a little “Before you.”

“Me?” Alfie asks his brow furrowing.

“When you’re around I’m calmer. I don’t worry so much, and it’s easier to sleep.” You admit rubbing your thumb along Alfie’s.

Alfie nods happily. Lifting your hand to his mouth, he kisses the back of it, continuing up your arm and over your shoulder before kissing your neck, throat and jaw. “Mm, that’s nice.” You sigh, feeling yourself relax. You guide his mouth to yours so you can kiss him again. “I’ve missed you.” You mumble through the kiss.

You can feel Alfie’s smile against your lips. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, it’s only been a few hours.” He points out with an amused rumble.

“Mm,” you hum smiling “Still missed you. Missed you all week.”

Alfie brushes your cheek, “I’ve missed you too, sweetie.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Snuggle with me.”  

“Soon love. But I need a shower first, yeah, ‘cause I stink like a fuckin’ pig.” Alfie explains. You pout and tug at your towel causing it to fall open. Alfie’s brushes his fingers over your thigh as he sighs. “I’ll be right back.” He says standing and heading for the door. In the doorway he pauses and looks back at you, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll be here.” You say winking as you lean back on your elbows.

Alfie’s eyes flash “Right back.” He says, already pulling his shirt over his head.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Alfie adjusts the towel around his waist as he reaches the bedroom door. You were exactly where he had left you lying across the bed with your legs hanging off the side, seemingly having gone straight back to sleep. He smiles and smooths the whiskers around his mouth with his palm, thinking absently that he should probably be slightly offended that you had gone back to sleep so easily. He’s distracted from this line of thought by you moaning softly, squirming on top of the covers. The thought wholly banished as your towel falls open again. He whistles softly to Cyril, still asleep under the window seat and nods out the door. “Come on now lad, out ya go. Don’t need you here sticking ya fuckin’ nose in do I?” he says affectionately patting the dogs head before closing the door.

You moan again, this time one word is clear “Alfie.” Your legs rub against each other as your back arches. “Alfie.” You moan again.

Alfie leans back against the door watching, noting the flush on your cheeks and chest. Mumbling again, your arms rise above your head, fingers tangling in your hair and spreading it over the covers. Alfie feels the blood rush from his head to his cock as you moan again. A deep guttural moan he recognises. He palms himself through the towel. Your brow furrows as you arch your back and bite your lip, writhing again as your legs fall open. Alfie groans, his hand tightening around his rapidly hardening cock at the sight of your thighs, glistening with your arousal in the dappled twilight. He moves closer and stops in front of you, unable to draw his eyes from the splendour of your body. He marvels that you seemed to have been made explicitly for him, everything about you perfection in his eyes. Unable to help himself, he trails his index finger over the constellation of freckles on the inside of your hip.

You sigh, and your eyes flutter open. “Mm, hello,” you hum, your tongue wetting your lips “I fell asleep again.”

“I noticed,” Alfie says, amusement clear in his voice.

“I was having a dream.” You yawn, stretching.

“Was it a good dream sweetie?” Alfie’s asks his hand rubbing over your hip and up your side, ghosting over your ribs.

“It was.” You say reaching out and trailing your fingers over his forearm. Alfie rests his knee on the mattress next to your thigh. You bring your hand to his knee, sliding your hand under his towel and up his thigh. “A very good dream” You confirm, dragging your nails slowly down the inside of his leg.

Alfie’s fingers drift under your breasts. “Hmm?” His deep hum questioning.

“We were having sex.” You say dreamily.

“Mm,” he hums, fingers drifting over your thigh, “that does sound like a good dream. Why don’t you tell me about it ‘ey?”

You feel the heat rush your cheeks instantly, embarrassed at the thought of speaking those thoughts out loud. Suddenly feeling very awake you hide your face in the crook of your elbow.

Alfie bends over you, kissing from your elbow down to your wrist before whispering in your ear. “Don’t be embarrassed sweetie; it’s about making each other feel good, remember?” His fingers tease your inner thighs.

Your breath catches at his words, seeming both obscene and fantastic at the same time. “Um,” you close your eyes trying to remember more than the fractured images in your mind. “We were in the cellar like this afternoon, but this time you didn’t have to go to a meeting.” You sit up, your eyes still closed.

“Good girl,” Alfie says encouragingly, removing his knee from the mattress and massaging your thighs, coaxing them apart, giving himself room to stand between them.  

Opening your eyes, but still not meeting Alfie’s, you shuffle closer, tugging the towel from his waist and dropping it on the floor. You swallow hard at the sight of his rigid, beading cock. Skating your hands down his chest and over his stomach, you take his cock in your hand and glide your thumb over the tip. You simultaneously bite at his chest making Alfie moan.  Already throbbing you guide him along your slit, smearing him with your arousal. Alfie moans and grips your thighs pulling you closer. “I was sitting on the crates.” You say using Alfie’s cock to tease yourself, rubbing it around your clit. “You were kissing my neck.”  

Alfie drops his head to the crook of your neck, kissing lightly. “Like this?” He asks, breathily.

“No. Harder.” You instruct, your hips rocking. Alfie sucks on your neck; you can immediately feel the blood pumping into the skin, the rhythm matching the pulsing in your clit. “Yes. Fuck. Just like that.” You gasp, grabbing his neck and pumping his cock.

Alfie groans quietly, eyes closing for a moment. There was something about hearing you swear that just did things to him. You only ever swore during intimate moments. The word fuck exclusively used to express a variety of emotions from frustration to elation, and he loved every single utterance.

“You were touching my breasts.” You remember, sighing the words.

Alfie mumbles against your neck as he takes a breast in each hand. He begins with slow, firm kneading before tugging on your nipples. “Did I use my mouth too?” Alfie asks, nipping and sucking on your earlobe as he tweaks a nipple between his finger and thumb.

“Yes.” You groan thrusting your chest out. Alfie hungrily latches onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple and bringing it to throbbing attention. He releases it between his teeth, quickly capturing it between his fingers and repeating the process on the other breast. “Fuck,” you cry in a low, long moan of pleasure. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you guide him to your entrance. “And then you fucked me.” You rasp. Alfie’s hands grasp your hips as he positions you, plunging into you with one quick stroke. The power of Alfie’s thrust forces you back on your elbows. “Fuck!” You cry, elated.

Alfie holds himself within you watching, waiting until you are squirming desperately before he moves again. He draws out of you slowly his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he does so. His pupils blow as he watches his cock disappear back inside you. “Like this sweetie?” He asks. Both of you are moaning as he reaches the top of his stroke.

“Harder.” You reply, your fingers gripping his forearms tightly. “Faster.”

Alfie’s rhythm slowly increases, his fingers digging into your hips with each stroke. You revel in the feeling of him filling you again and again. Dragging his gaze back up your body his tongue slides between his lips. Alfie’s eyes meet yours again.  “And then what happened?” He asks voice strained.

“Ollie was looking for you. We hid behind barrels. Fucked against the wall.” You pant in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck,” Alfie grunts appreciatively, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you against him. Your mouths come together as you cling to each other. Your arms fall naturally around his neck, your ankles linking behind his back as he lifts you easily and carries you across the room. The vibration of each step is delicious, and you bite down on the top of his shoulder as your hands claw at his back and tug at his hair. He repositions his arms as he presses you against the wall. The sound of your flesh slapping is drowned out by the sound of your head banging against the wall as Alfie drives into you again. You cry out more in pleasure than pain, but Alfie repositions himself, his hand cradling the back of your head protectively. “Like this?” He asks thrusting again.

“Fuck,” You moan affirmatively, dragging Alfie’s mouth to yours. Your mouths lock hungrily, tongues delving into the others mouth, matching the frantic action of your thrusting. You quickly begin to lose coherence. “Alfie, fuck.” You garble barely able to form thoughts let alone words.

Alfie looks at you tenderly, kissing your cheeks, stroking your hair, while simultaneously pounding his pelvis against yours. “You close love?” He murmurs.

You nod with a whimper, your hands running through his hair and over his back desperately wanting him closer. Your eyes wide, silently asking if he was close too.

“Yes love,” Alfie smiles “me too. Just let go yeah. I’ve got you.” He promises in-between hot kisses. You sigh with relief, your eyes closing, sure you wouldn’t have been able to hold on much longer. Alfie’s fingers fist in your hair, pulling your face to his and holding you in his gaze.

You’ve never been able to look someone in the eye, in any circumstance, for longer than a moment. Fears and anxieties quickly overwhelming you and forcing you to look away. But here naked and vulnerable, with him, you could.

You can see your reflection in his eyes, face distorted in pleasure, cheeks flushed and hair plastered on your forehead and cheeks. You watch yourself as your orgasm rips through you. Lost to everything else except the feeling of soaring, literally seeing stars, before falling into the warm, safe embrace of Alfie. He caresses you with kisses and touches, praises and affirmations anointing you as he takes you to bed. Holding you, grounding you, until you return to yourself.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“You often have dreams like that sweetie?” Alfie asks, playfully bumping your hip with his as you finish up the dishes after supper.

Drying your hands on a tea towel while he puts the last of the plates away you watch him. Admiring, as always, the way he moves, watching the ripple of the muscles in his forearm as he closes the cupboard. You wrap your arms around him “I told you, I missed you.” You say, quickly ducking your head and chewing on your lip, still slightly embarrassed.

Alfie chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “I missed you too.” He says lifting you up onto the counter before kissing you again.

“Mm?” You ask playfully, wiggling your eyebrows and smoothing his moustache around his lips with your thumbs.

Alfie laughs, shaking his head “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” You notice a hint of pink on his ears and under his beard. “How was training?” He asks changing the subject pointedly.

“Good. Master Chen gave me a new weapon.” You say grinning.

“Yeah?” Alfie replies.

“Mm, knives.” You say happily.

Alfie frowns slightly “I’m not sure a knife is a good choice love, you gotta be real close to use one yeah? I don’t want you getting that close.” He nods and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

“Not these, these are throwing knives.” You say getting down off the counter “I’ll show you.” Slipping around Alfie, you pad quickly through the house and take the leather wallet from your purse. Running excitedly back to the kitchen you open the back door, “Come on.” You instruct Alfie as you take his hand.  

You pull a palm-sized knife from the wallet and feel the weight of it in your hand. There is still just enough light to see, and you look around the yard for a suitable target. You smile spotting the ‘x’ someone had painted on the door of Alfie’s shed. You flick your wrist, and the knife flies through the air, hitting the timber with a satisfying thud.

You turn to look at Alfie who nods “good shot.” He says encouragingly.

You pull another knife from the wallet and with another flick of your wrist the second knife clinks against the first as it embeds itself slightly to the left. You repeat the process with the other four knives creating a neat cluster over the centre of the ‘x’. Once you have used up all the knives, you quickly collect them and return them to the wallet. The entire time Alfie has said nothing further. You feel nerves tugging at your insides as you stand in front of him. “What do you think?” You ask shyly.

Alfie’s hands rise to your hips. He pulls you towards him “I think I’m fuckin’ turned on.” he growls in your ear as he wraps you up, lifting your feet from the ground and carrying you into the house. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Morning love.” Alfie greets you warmly, his whiskers scratching on the back of your neck.

You shiver and rollover, brushing your lips against his “Morning.”

“Sleep well?”

“Mmhmm.” You hum, snuggling down further in the covers and pressing your face into Alfie’s chest. “I always sleep better when I’m with you.” You say happily.

Alfie chuckles “Why’s that then do ya think?” Alfie teases burying his face in your neck. “Worn out maybe?”

“Maybe.” You giggle, remembering the evening before.

Alfie smiles, his eyes sparkling. He brushes his fingers along your jaw drawing your mouth back to his. You both groan as the alarm on Alfie’s bedside clatters into action. You go to pull away, but Alfie resists, rolling you onto your back with him on top of you, pressing you into the mattress, showering you in eager kisses.

The alarm’s persistent ringing continues to demand attention. “The alarm.” You point out.

Barely moving Alfie smashes his hand down on top of it before tossing it across the room. “It can fuck off.” He grumbles as it clatters into the wall.

You begin to laugh, wiggling to free yourself from under him “I need to get up.” You say when Alfie doesn’t take your hint.

“Nah.” Alfie says with a shake of the head, “got at least two hours before we need to be in the office. Plenty of time.” He says devilishly.

You push against his chest “Yeah well that’s all well and good for you, but I need to go home and get a change of clothes before I go in, so I need to get up now.” Alfie doesn’t move, his bottom lip protruding slightly. You laugh again, “Don’t sulk, Alfie.” You say propping yourself up and kissing him, sucking the offending lip between your teeth.

“Alright,” Alfie sighs dramatically, as he flops onto his back allowing you to get up.

You can’t help but look at him laid out on the bed, arms and legs spread wide and sheet draped over his waist. The sheet doing little to hide his arousal. He looks glorious in the morning light. “I’m going for a shower if you want to come.” You offer, before heading to the bathroom. You can’t help but laugh at the sound of Alfie leaping out of bed and chasing after you. You let out a small squeal as he catches you, flinging your over his shoulder and carrying you the rest of the way to the bathroom.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“You should stay here,” Alfie says casually towelling his back.

“What?” You ask, surely you had misheard.

“You should live here.” He reiterates as he wraps the towel around his waist.

“With you?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah, right, that’s the idea innit.” Alfie says with a chuckle “Me and you and Cyril, here together in this house.”

“Really?” You ask unsure of what else to say and frankly still caught off guard by the casualness of his request.

“Yeah, really,” Alfie responds with continued casualness.

“But why?” You ask anxiously.

“So you don’t have to go home to get changed,” Alfie says grinning, standing in front of you and placing his hands on your shoulders.

You watch him, your brow furrowed as you try to work out what he means. “Live here permanently?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“But,” you begin but can’t finish, unable to stop the torrent of thoughts flowing through your mind, worried thoughts bumping against each other, melding together to become nightmare scenarios. “But, it’s not proper.” You protest weakly.

Alfie laughs. It’s not cruel or unkind; he’s not laughing at you. It’s just a genuine response to your statement. “Never been accused of being fuckin’ proper have I?” He says once he manages to get himself controlled. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks do I?” You shake your head, agreeing silently. Alfie looks at you, eyes critically examining you, giving his head a little shake he brings his hands to your face. “’Cept you love. I do care what you think right. Fuckin’ only opinion that matters yeah. And you care what they think don’t you? It’s a mile a minute in that head of yours at the moment innit?” He says kindly. You shrug, relief and disappointment flooding through you, unable to express how you feel you burst into tears. “Oh, love,” Alfie says pulling you against him. “I’m sorry right. You know me I spout any fuckin’ stupid thought that comes into my head. Just forget it yeah.” He says soothingly.

Wiping the away the tears you look up, “It’s not that I don’t want to.” You insist.

Alfie nods understandingly “I know.” He says “We don’t have to rush do we ‘ey? All the time in the fuckin’ world haven’t we? Maybe you can just bring a few things here, and I’ll take a few things to yours yeah?” You nod and rest your head back against his chest. “Just breathe,” Alfie says softly, holding you close and resting his head on top of yours. You concentrate on following his breath. Alfie’s calmness washes over you. In the warmth and comfort of his embrace, you allow yourself to relax, breathe and think.

“Yes.” You say into Alfie’s chest.

“Pardon love?” Alfie says relaxing his grip on you, allowing you to lift your head so he could hear you speak.

You smile shyly under his gaze “Yes.” You say.

Alfie shakes his head, “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” He says.

“I want to.” You cut him off.

“A minute ago love you were in a panic at the mere thought.” Alfie insists.

“I was.” You nod in agreement and take his hand in yours. “But then you were there for me. Holding me, making me feel safe.” You smile as Alfie’s chest swells slightly. “When you hold me all the noise just stops, and I can just think. What I said the other day was true. Things are better when I’m with you.” You smile, taking his face in your hands and raising yourself up onto your tip toes. “Calmer. Happier.” You say before pressing your lips to his.

Alfie sighs happily “I’m fuckin’ happier an’ all.” He says before kissing you again, pulling away, his eyes hold yours. “Right, so you’ll move in yeah?” he clarifies.

You take a deep breath. Talking Alfie’s hands in yours you rest against him, entwining your fingers. You wait for the feeling of calm to sweep you up. You smile a little when you realise Alfie’s heart is pounding too. “Yeah.”

Alfie beams, eyes sparkling “That’s fuckin’ wonderful innit.” He says, kissing you again.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, love, whatcha got in here?” Alfie says with a grunt, as he puts the chest he’s carrying on the floor.

“Old circus stuff mostly.” You say off-handedly, glancing over your shoulder before returning your attention to the box in front of you.

“Really?” Alfie says keenly sitting down on the edge of the bed. You were in the spare room of his house. It was where Alfie had said you could store your things until you found a place for them. His tongue darts between his lips “So any costumes or anything?” He asks failing terribly at trying to sound casual.

“Nothing that would fit.” You say with a laugh turning your attention to the chest. Opening the lid, you pull a photo album from on top, setting it on the edge of the bed while you continue to look through the chest. Alfie picks up the album and begins flicking through the pages.

The clatter of metal banging on metal makes him look up from the page. He eyes the leather pouch in your hand suspiciously. “What you got in there?” He asks.

You can’t help but smirk, undoing the leather ties and rolling out the case along the bed, revealing the set of throwing knives. Alfie’s long fingers pull one of the knives from its pouch, and he holds it up. “So how old were you when you started with these then?” He asks, grinning.

You shrug, “Eight maybe nine.”

“So that thing in the garden with the knives the other night, you didn’t learn that at Master Chen’s?” He asks voice warm and edged with laughter.

“Well, not entirely,” You admit sheepishly.

Alfie laughs “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that right? Fuckin’ phenomenal.”

You blush and take the knife from his fingers sliding it away and rolling and retying the case. “We all learnt, all the kids.” You say, flicking open the album and quickly finding the right page. You turn the album for Alfie to see, pointing to the picture of Gus tied to the spinning wheel surrounded by knives and you standing in front in your costume.

Alfie grins broadly “I can’t believe Gus was ever small.” He laughs picking up the album. You smile and sit down next to him, leaning against him as he turns over the page. “You had a pet tiger?” Alfie asks, eyes sparkling, pointing to the photo of you giving a tiger cub its bottle.

You smile fondly remembering “Not really, I mean, all our animals were part of the show, so they weren’t pets. But it was my job to feed the cats; I liked them.”

“Cats?” Alfie says incredulous “Bit fuckin’ bigger than Fluffy across the road innit?” Alfie chuckles “You have anything else?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. We had a big black bear called Alfred.”

“Fuck off,” Alfie says grinning.

“We did. Look,” you flick to the back of the album and pull out an old program. You point to the photo of the bear wearing a small hat and a waistcoat on the cover before sliding your finger down to the caption ‘Alfred the dancing bear.’ “He looks a bit like you, with that hat.” You tease.

Alfie burst out laughing. The two of you laughing together until you put the program away. “What were they like?” He asks.

“Sad mostly,” you reply. Alfie raises his eyebrows in silent question. “Big powerful animals locked up, with no room to roam, sitting around all day, they were like puppets really, not great beasts anymore.” You explain.

“Hm,” Alfie grunts “Ya right. Creatures like that need to roam. Not right to keep ‘em caged.”

“No.” You agree, “Not right at all.” You say fondly reaching up and scratching your fingers through the whiskers under his chin.

\--------------------------------------------------------

You wander into Alfie’s office, closing the door behind you. “’Ello love,” Alfie says affectionately looking up from the papers in front of him.

“We got all that paperwork sorted; they’re loading the truck now.” You say not moving away from the door.

“Ollie watching them load?” Alfie asks returning his attention to the paperwork on his desk.

“Yes.” You reply, not moving. “It was my mistake.” You admit quietly, after a moment, your hands wringing in front of you as you look squarely at the edge of the rug at your feet. Neither the sound of Alfie’s heavy sigh, the scrape of his chair on the timber floor, the approaching sound of his footsteps, nor the sight of his boots cause you to lift your head. You sigh a little as Alfie’s arms wrap around you.

“So?” He asks before kissing the top of your head.

“It could have cost you a lot of money.” You say anxiously.

“Maybe,” Alfie says, shrugging as he rubs his hand over your back. “But it didn’t.” He says firmly, lifting your chin, so you are looking at him. “You fixed it, and it’s all fine.” He assures you.

Burying your face into his chest, you burst into tears. “I’m sorry.”

Alfie holds you tighter, smoothing your hair, whispering assurances to you in-between peppering your hair with light kisses. As you manage to calm yourself, Alfie guides you behind his desk, sitting down he pulls you onto his lap. “Come on now. What’s the matter ‘ey? You’ve not been upset like this in month’s have ya?” He says wiping your tears from your cheeks.

It was true, since moving in with Alfie you were generally much calmer and any time you started to get a little overanxious Alfie was quickly there to soothe you. “It was such a stupid mistake.” You say into his chest. “I’ve just been so tired." You say in frustration, looking up at him.

Alfie’s eyes search your face “You still not feeling well love?” He asks rubbing the backs of his fingers over your cheek.

“Just tired, a bit of a headache that’s all.” You say resting your head against his shoulder. You’d been feeling unwell all weekend and had mainly stayed in bed. Alfie had spent the week away on business, not getting home until Sunday afternoon. He’d been concerned finding you in bed in the middle of the day, but happily joined you. Within five minutes of him getting into bed and pulling you into a hug though, you were asleep.  Alfie had suggested spending the day at home, but Ollie had called early about a problem with some paperwork for today’s deliveries, including a large order for a new client. Despite feeling nauseous, headachy and tired, you had gone in with Alfie.  

“You want to go home?” Alfie asks.

You can’t help but smile a little, even after three months you still get a thrill out Alfie calling his house, your home. You shake your head, “I’m fine.” You say, your fingers fiddling idly with one of the buttons on his shirt.

“Right, you just relax there for a bit.” He says wrapping his arm around you and kissing your forehead before guiding your head to his shoulder.

“Mm,” you agree, lifting your head and kissing his jaw before snuggling back down and wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Love?” Alfie whispers, his whiskers tickling your ear.

“Mm?” You say, opening your eyes only to be met by the furrowed brow of Alfie.

“You feel asleep, love,” Alfie says.

“Sorry.” You say apologetically.

Alfie shakes his head as he brushes your hair back off your face, “You sure you’re alright? You’re very pale.” He asks softly, pressing the backs of his fingers against your brow and cheeks.  

You sit up, cupping his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. “I’m fine Alfie; it’s just a bit of a headache.”

“Come on, let’s go home, yeah.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Here ya go, sweetie,” Alfie says taking the book from your hand and exchanging it for a cup of tea. You were seated on the sofa; legs stretched across the seat reading your book while Alfie had taken a call in the office.

“Thank you.” You say accepting the cup and blowing lightly across the surface. “Everything alright?” You ask tucking your legs up to make room for Alfie.

“Hmm,” Alfie grunts affirmatively, but not elaborating, his hand rubbing between your shoulder blades. “You warm enough love?” Without waiting for your reply, he pulls the blanket from the arm of his armchair and places it over your lap.

Resting your temple against his hip you look up at him “Thank you.”

Alfie looks down at the dark circles under your eyes and feels like he’s been punched in the stomach, by someone who knows what they're doing. “You not sleeping, love? Worried about something?” He asks smoothing his hand over your hair.

“No. I’m fine. You know I don’t sleep well when you’re away. Stop worrying.” You lie taking his hand in yours and squeezing it lightly. The truth was you were exhausted; you had slept soundly through the night each night Alfie had been away. Mrs Jensen, Alfie’s housekeeper, had been forced to wake you twice when you slept through the alarm.  

Cyril, who had been lying on the floor next to you, stands and pushes himself between you and Alfie, huffing as he does so. He pushes his head down on your hands forcing them apart.

“Ger off.” Alfie grunts, pointing to Cyril’s bed with your book, while dragging him away with the other hand. “He’s gone fuckin’ daft,” Alfie says shaking his head as he settles on the sofa next to you, putting the book on the coffee table and lifting your feet into his lap. He rubs your stockinged feet between his hands, warming them.

You sink down in the seat a little, your head resting against the back of the chair. “He missed you too.”

“Nah, reckon he fuckin’ wants to keep ya to himself. Like yer fuckin’ shadow, ‘e is, following you around everywhere.” He comments rubbing the soles of your feet working the tension out of them.

“Oh, so you’re the one who’s jealous then.” You tease rubbing the side of your foot against his stomach.

Alfie laughs good-naturedly and leans forward plucking your book from the table, holding it at arm’s length to read the cover. “The Secret Garden. Ah, that’s fuckin’ lovely that is.” He says with a smile. “Enjoying it?” He asks flicking through the pages, stopping at the one marked by the pressed flower, a token from Alfie commemorating one of your walks with him and Cyril, you used as a bookmark.

You nod, unable to answer as you suppress another yawn. Alfie takes the flower and tucks it in the back pages of the book, before setting his glasses on his nose. He continues to rub your feet with his free hand, as he reads to you.

 

Alfie lifts you off the couch; you only stir slightly, as he carries you upstairs. You look paler he decides. “Time for bed love, let’s get you changed.” He says setting you on the edge of the bed.

You mumble agreement and fumble with your buttons. Alfie takes over, helping you strip down, resisting the temptation to shower you with kisses and tender touches. He pulls your nightgown on over your head and tucks you in. You’re asleep before he’s finished. With an uncomfortable ache in his chest, he kisses your forehead lightly “Night love.”

Alfie watches you as he prepares for bed struck by how easily you have slotted into his life. Since you agreed to move in, his solitary life had become a shared one. His bed, house and even Cyril were no longer his but yours too. Cyril, in fact, becoming utterly devoted to you. Despite the newness of the arrangement, it felt familiar and comfortable. He’d worried a bachelor like himself would have trouble adjusting to another person under his roof, but you had been like a fresh breeze in spring, blowing through the house and his life and injecting freshness and enthusiasm into things he’d long discarded under figurative piles of dust.

Climbing into bed, Alfie looks across at you. The soft glow of the fire giving no warmth to your sunken features.  He pulls you against him, his nose burying in your hair, he realises that for once it’s his heart that’s racing and not yours. He closes his eyes and concentrates on matching his breathing to the steady pace of yours.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Waking with a start, Alfie is immediately alert. A protective hand reaching for you while his brain tries to determine the source of the disturbance. His other hand already in the bedside drawer pulling out the revolver he keeps there. He sits up, eyes scanning the room looking for anything out of place in the grey pre-dawn light. His heart sinks when he realises you are not in bed next to him and by the lack of warmth in the sheets you had been gone for some time Alfie quickly gets out of bed. A whimper from Cyril draws him to the door, not bothering with a robe or slippers despite the cold. Alfie can barely hear over the pounding in his ears. Cyril is easy to spot outside the bathroom door, taking up most of the hallway. He looks up at Alfie, standing and baring his teeth, his whimpers turning into warning growls.

“Is she in there?” Alfie asks him nodding towards the bathroom door Cyril was guarding, Cyril’s behaviour causing a chill to run down Alfie’s spine. He cocks the gun before checking behind him, finding no one there he moves closer to Cyril. “Shh, mate it’s ‘right.” He pushes past Cyril and takes a deep breath before opening the door, crashing through and checking the corners. You jerk your head up at the noise of the door flying open, not moving from your spot on the floor curled around the toilet. “Sweetie?” Alfie says dropping to his knees as soon as he is sure the room is clear and checking you over; using both his hands and eyes to search you. “What’s wrong?”

Around chattering teeth, you rasp. “Sick.” It’s all you can manage before quickly moving your head over the bowl gagging wretchedly. With nothing left in your stomach strings of sticky bile stretch from your mouth to the water. You shiver violently. Alfie quickly wraps his arm around you, brushing your hair from your face and holding it back. You try to push him away, tears burning your eyes, “You’ll get it on you.” You pull on your nighty to show him the vomit stain.

Alfie pulls you tighter. “Don’t be silly love. Fuckin’ ‘ell, not the most disgusting thing I’ve gotten on me is it?” He says warmly, pressing a kiss to your temple. In between bouts of gagging Alfie gets you a drink of water, wets a cloth and wipes your face gently and wraps you in a towel. Once he’s satisfied, he has everything you’ll need he sits on the floor and lifts you into his lap, getting you off the freezing tiles. He holds your hair back and wipes your face in-between bouts. After ten minutes without retching or gagging, Alfie suggests a shower. You’re barely able to stand, so he joins you. Holding you with one arm while he helps you wash. Keeping you in the warm water until your teeth stop chattering.

Later, back in bed, clean, dry and warm, you sleep again. Alfie doesn’t. Lying in bed wide awake, he watches you. His brain racing as he tries to work out what’s wrong with you. Wondering if you worry about him so much while he’s away it’s making you physically unwell. Trying to decide if it would be better to take you with him. As the first rays of dawn filter into the bedroom, Alfie gets up, unable to watch you any longer.

Your eyes flutter open as he kisses you goodbye. “Alfie?” you murmur.

“Sorry love didn’t mean to wake you,” Alfie says in his soft growl as he caresses your cheek. “Just going to the office yeah. You stay home today. Mrs Jensen’s here if you need anything right.”

“Sorry, Alfie.” You mumble unable to muster the energy to move much less to disagree.

“It’s ‘right love.” Alfie kisses your forehead and heads for the door. He pauses in the doorway intending to tell you he loves you but you’re already asleep.  

\--------------------------------------------------------

“You’re up,” Alfie says beaming as he enters the bedroom and finds you curled up in your chair by the fire reading.

“I’m feeling much better,” you reply. A smile spreads across your face as Alfie produces a large bunch of flowers from behind his back. “Oh, they’re beautiful Alfie. You shouldn’t have.” You say standing and taking the flowers from his hands.

Alfie’s eyes crinkle in the corners, and he tugs at the hair around his mouth before he pulls you against him and kisses you “Not as beautiful as you though are they.” You smile and duck your head resting against his chest for a moment enjoying the closeness. “Where’s Cyril?” Alfie asks suddenly “Fuckin’ hasn’t left you for days now, always in the fuckin’ way.”

“We had to put him outside; he wouldn’t let Mrs Jensen in the room. He snapped at her.” You tell him.

“What the fuck has gotten into that damn animal?” Alfie says irritably, as he shakes his head.

“Let’s take him for a walk.” You suggest.

“You sure you’re up for that sweetie?” Alfie asks brows furrowing again as he survey’s your face. “You still look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine Alfie; fresh air will do me a world of good.” You assure him, your hand caressing his arm.

 

“Cyril!!” Alfie bellows furiously, as Cyril lunges Mrs Kemple from three doors down as she passes you in the street. Cyril had lunged at every person who had come within six feet of you since you stepped out the front door ten minutes ago. He also kept pushing himself between you and Alfie, leaning against Alfie heavily steering him away from you. Alfie pulls Cyril back on a short leash and commands him to sit while you apologise profusely to Mrs Kemple. Alfie calls further apologies in Yiddish as he drags Cyril back to the house. You help her with her shopping and into her home and put the kettle on for tea while you wait for Alfie to return from taking Cyril back home.

 

“Do you think he’s sick?” You ask Alfie as he slips his hand into yours at the top of Mrs Kemple’s stairs. “He’s being odd. Perhaps we should take him to the vet.”

“Hmmm,” Alfie considers, “Gotta be honest love, fuckin’ more worried about you at the moment ain’t I.” He rumbles as he brings the back of your hand to his mouth.

You lean against him lightly “I’m fine Alfie.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

“I told you to wake me.” Alfie chastises gently lowering himself to the floor with a low groan. He pulls your hair back and guides you into his lap, getting you off the cold tiles.

“No time.” You croak before vomiting again. You had heard him coming; his familiar stride faster than usual, his patience non-existent with Cyril when he growled and blocked his access to the door. Again he stays with you until you’re finished, showering with you and getting you back into bed. You go back to sleep immediately.

 

“Sweetie?” Alfie’s voice pulls you from your dreamless sleep.

“Mm?” You hum barely opening your eyes, as a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I’m going to work now.” He says sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing your hair off your face.

You cough, and Alfie quickly passes you the basin from beside the bed. “I’m fine,” you growl irritably, pushing the offered pan away.

“Yeah well fuckin’ not normal throwing up all the time is it?” Alfie bites back, slamming the basin on top of the bedside. You flinch. “Sorry.” He apologises immediately. “I’m sorry love.” He apologises again “You sure you’re alright?”

You turn your head and kiss his palm, smiling weakly “I’m fine Alfie.” You assure him.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“No Jenny again boss?” Ollie asks his employer as Alfie stomps into the office.

“Well she’s not hiding under my fuckin’ coat is she?” Alfie snaps back. “Still fuckin’ sick innit.”

“Probably just a cold.” Ollie offers, trying to reassure Alfie.

“Just a fuckin’ cold!” Alfie explodes. Ollie takes a step back; he’d forgotten how volatile his employer’s temper could be; having seen none of the barely concealed rages he was used to before you had come to work at the bakery. “You forgot how many fuckin’ people died after the war? Died from just a fuckin’ cold. Fuckin’ millions mate. So don’t fuckin’ tell me just a fuckin’ cold.” He bellows.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Huh?” You grunt staring at the doctor dumbly.

“I said you can pull your blouse down now.” The doctor says softly, gently guiding the fabric down over your lower back. “Come and take a seat over here next to the fire.” He says gesturing to Alfie’s chair.

Mutely, you nod, sliding off the edge of the bed and cross to the fire, sitting in your chair as the doctor settles in Alfie’s.

Alfie had organised the doctor to visit despite your protests before he left for Birmingham that morning. You’d been meant to go with him to Birmingham. Your parent’s troop were in the area, and you had planned to visit them while he took care of some business with the Shelby’s. But when you spent the early morning vomiting again, Alfie had gone without you, calling a doctor for you before he left.

“Are you expecting Mr Solomons’ home soon?” The doctor asks, looking at the clock on the mantle showing it to be seven fifteen in the evening.

“No.” You shake your head. “He’s in Birmingham; he won’t be home until later.”

“Shame. It’s always nice when the father is here for the good news.”

Your face screws up in confusion “Alfie’s not my father.” You blurt before your brain processes the whole sentence.

The doctor chuckles “No, not your father,” He says pausing, waiting for you to pick up on what he’s saying.

You stare at him blankly, you don’t understand what he’s saying, and you are beginning to get scared “What’s wrong with me?” You whisper, your eyes brimming with tears.

“Nothing’s wrong my dear.” The doctor assures you, patting your knee. “You’re very healthy and so is your baby.”

“Baby?”

“Yes, you’re pregnant. Congratulations. I’d say about nine weeks.” He continues.

“Pregnant.” You repeat.

Dumb you don’t move from the chair. You’re vaguely aware of Mrs Jensen showing the doctor out and bringing you tea. At some point later she had asked if you wanted Cyril back inside as she was leaving. Cyril had tried to attack the doctor, forcing you to put Cyril outside again. You must have answered yes because Cyril was now seated in front of you, head resting heavily in your lap. Your fingers stroke along the top of his head.

Your physical stillness belies your mental state. Your mind is racing, barely able to hold a thought for more than thirty seconds. Your emotions are a rollercoaster, fear, relief, joy, anxiety, excitement and terror all whizzing by. Overwhelmed you curl up in the chair and cry, sobbing as you worry about what Alfie will say and do when you tell him. The minutes tick by as you try to work out what to do. Exhausted you fall asleep in the chair.

 

You wake up with a start, Cyril’s barks and growling ripping you from sleep.

“For fuck’s sake you fuckin’ crazy mutt, it’s just me. Fucking keep it down.” You hear Alfie grumbling from the other side of the door as he pulls it open. Cyril blocks Alfie’s entry through the doorway, continuing the growl. “Cyril!” Alfie snaps grabbing the dog by his collar and pulling him through the door into the hallway, stepping inside himself he shuts the door firmly. Cyril whimpers from outside the door. “’Ello love,” Alfie says crossing the floor in three quick steps. “You didn’t need to wait up.” He says bending down to kiss you.

You shake your head “I dozed off.” You reply tipping your face to his.

“You still tired sweetie?” Alfie asks brushing your cheek. “Fucking freezing in ‘ere.” He says, quickly stoking the fire and adding another log. Before guiding you up and pulling you into a hug, kissing you gently and rubbing his hands over you. You stand stiffly, fear and anxiety flooding you again, as you remember the news the doctor had given you. Feeling you tense, Alfie pulls you closer. Noting the paleness of your skin and the redness around your eyes, he feels his chest tighten. “Did the doctor come today?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“What did he say?” Alfie asks his heart pounding.

Tears well in your eyes instantly and your throat tightens. Tears run down your cheeks as you shake your head and press your face against his chest.

Your reaction makes Alfie feels sick. “Love?” He prompts you, trying hard to keep his voice even.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, your hands coming to your mouth to suppress the sob threatening to follow the words from your mouth.

Alfie’s pulls back trying to see your face. “Pregnant?” He can barely move his lips to form the word he’s smiling so broadly.

Head down, avoiding Alfie’s gaze; you don’t notice his smile, you sob “I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck for?”

“It was an accident I didn’t mean to.” You say still not meeting his eyes.

Alfie’s smile fades a little, and his brow furrows “Do ya not want to have a baby with me?”

Shocked you look up. Alfie’s chest tightens again; he brushes the tears from your cheek with his thumb. You notice his slightly pained expression and reach up and stroke his cheek “Only with you.” Alfie beams, his arms wrap around you, and he kisses you. “You’re not angry?” You ask needing to know for sure.

“Fuck no.” Alfie beams.

You look up at him surprised “You don’t want me to get rid of it?”

“No,” Alfie says immediately. His eyes search your face, his expression serious “Do you?”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you lean against him. The steadfastness of his returned embrace making everything clear. “No.”

“Fucking wonderful news innit?” Alfie says beaming. You smile back feeling a huge weight lift off your shoulders. “Come on love, let’s sit down ‘ey,” Alfie says, sitting in his chair and pulling you into his lap. He holds you in his soft gaze as a gentle smile turns the corners of his mouth. His hand slowly moving to your stomach. As the heat of his palm spreads through you, feel yourself take your first deep breath since the doctor left. “You’re gonna have a baby,” Alfie says in wonder.

Your hand rises to his, your fingers sliding between his. “Our baby.” You smile. Hesitantly you kiss him. “I love you.”

Alfie sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. He wraps his arm around you pulling you closer. “I love you too.” He kisses you, his lips brushing against yours. “Both of you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I take requests and have other work available on my Tumblr: https://twistedrunes.tumblr.com/


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